Your Guardian Angel
by YukiSkye
Summary: Ludwig liked his normal life. So when someone showed up proclaiming he’s his guardian angel, he promptly slammed the door in his face. Too bad he's going to have to deal with him anyway. In-depth summary inside, LudwigxFeliciano, AlfredxArthur
1. Here to Make You Happy

**Rating: **T for some swearing

**Pairings:** Ludwig/Feliciano, Alfred/Arthur/Francis

**Summary:** Ludwig's life was always the same and he liked it like that. However, the arrival of a happy-go-lucky Italian guardian angel named Veneziano changed all that. Much to the blonde's ire, the 'angel' won't leave until he's 'happy.' Despairing over the issue but forced to live with an additional occupant in his life, it seemed as though Ludwig is in for drastic changes. But it seems as though there's more to it than that. As new strangers walk in, so do some old friends, forcing Ludwig to face something he unconsciously struggled to forget about. And it seems to revolve around Veneziano.

**A/N:** Hey everyone! I know most of you are going "Argh, it's _another_ one of those stupid guardian angel stories!" so thanks for giving this a chance anyhow. I promise you that it's not one of those "Wow he's so great, I'm in love! Do you love me too?!" fics because I don't roll that way. I've been thinking about this idea for a while, toying with the plot in my head and I finally decided to give it a shot. This story is also something like an experiment: I'm trying to improve characterization, plot, and dialouge so critique is most definitely welcome. I'm also going to try my hand at mystery. Um, this is my first multi-chapter fic and it'll have a (hopefully) good mystery plot later on. Other than that, please treat me well! And thanks for reading this obscenely long author's note.

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**_Chapter 1_:** Here to Make You Happy

* * *

Ludwig's life was a routine.

Everyday, he'd wake up at six-thirty, brush his teeth, take a shower, dress, comb his hair, and wake (kick) Gilbert up.

Afterwards, he'll make breakfast while Gilbert stumbles around the house in a half-asleep stupor and occasionally help him out of situations like getting his finger stuck up a tube of toothpaste.

When breakfast is ready, he'll sit down to his coffee and read anything in the newspaper he couldn't manage to finish last night while half-listening to his brother complain about getting to work fifteen minutes early.

When breakfast is cleared, they'll get in the car (Ludwig always drives because a sleep-deprived Gilbert behind the wheel is a scary thought) and they'll make the thirty-minute trip to work with his brother napping in the passenger seat and arrive around eight-fifteen.

Work would commence and at about four, the brothers would leave work but this time, Gilbert drives. As he drives, he'll try to turn the radio to a rock band, trying to blast it as loud as possible, talk and complain about his day or, on really bad days, rant about it, often subjecting himself to road rage.

Dinner isn't often much. It was usually simple dishes or take-out. Ludwig would then catch up on work or read the newspaper while Gilbert did whatever he felt like doing on that particular day.

Ludwig's life was a routine and that's how he liked it. It was predictable and he was in control.

When the doorbell rang that particular morning during breakfast, Ludwig opened the door to behold an enthusiastic-looking Italian brown-haired, brown-eyed young man who smiled so brightly, Ludwig wondered if he was high on caffeine.

He didn't even get to ask what the other wanted before he said in a loud, overly happy voice, "Hi! I'm Veneziano and I'm your guardian angel!"

Ludwig slammed the door in the kook's face.

He hadn't even taken two steps away when he heard a whine and incessant knocking on his door.

The blonde rolled his eyes and went to get the door again to make it perfectly clear to even the stupidest person on earth who didn't know what a slammed door in the face means, to go away.

He yanked the door back open.

Veneziano was frozen halfway through the motion of knocking, looking surprised to find the door suddenly replaced with a tall German man.

He seemed to have calmed down a bit and he smiled again but less intensely than last time.

Ludwig gave the young man a mildly annoyed look and said, "I don't know why you're doing this but please leave before I call the police."

"Waa! No! Please don't call the police! Um… Are you Ludwig?" Veneziano asked hastily.

"Yes," Ludwig replied, hoping Veneziano would state his business more properly this time.

"Well… um… uh… I… ah…" Veneziano stumbled through his words, looking panicked and trying to find the right words to say.

Ludwig sighed. It was too early for this and he hadn't had his coffee yet so he was tired. He was also pretty sure Veneziano had woken up his neighbors from his overly loud introduction. But more importantly, Gilbert might be trying, and failing, to somehow get the food from the pan to his plate.

"Look, why don't you come inside for now. You can tell me what you want then, okay?" Ludwig suggested. He wasn't usually one to invite strangers into the house but right now, he wanted to get this over with. He was not about to stand around in the front door listening to stuttered explanations and Veneziano seemed to be an insistent guy so he won't just leave without getting whatever he wanted.

Ludwig led the Italian man to the kitchen and gestured for him to sit at the table.

Gilbert was, thankfully, passed-out, facedown on the table, snoring and drooling as opposed to passed-out, facedown on the floor with a big bump on his head.

The younger brother returned to his earlier chore of putting the breakfast on plates and pouring coffee into mugs.

"Do you want some?" Ludwig asked out of courtesy for the guest.

Veneziano shook his head and continued to fidget, anxiously waiting for Ludwig to finish.

The blonde placed the a plate and mug in front of Gilbert then placed one in front of the chair across from Veneziano where Ludwig was to sit in. He sat himself comfortably then shook his brother awake, who groaned and immediately grabbed the coffee, downing it like he was drinking beer.

"So what is it you wanted from me?" Ludwig asked, taking a sip of his own coffee.

Gilbert, who seemed unaware of the stranger in favor of devouring his breakfast, stopped all movement when he caught sight of Veneziano. He gave a confused and disheveled look as though trying to figure out if the person sitting to his right was real or not.

"Well," Veneziano began, fumbling around in his jean pocket, taking out a small white book and flipping through it. "Ve… Ludwig… Oh! Here! Ludwig Weillschmidt. It says that you're unhappy? I'm supposed to make you happy again!" Veneziano exclaimed enthusiastically.

Ludwig gave an exasperated and impatient look. Unhappy? First Veneziano proclaimed himself his guardian angel and now he was saying he was unhappy? He was perfectly fine with his life and this stranger had the audacity to go into his house and say he's unhappy?

Annoyance began to set in and he was about to speak but Gilbert didn't give him a chance. He had reached over the table and snatched the little book out of the surprised Veneziano's hand and, ignoring his protests, looked at the book.

Ludwig sighed and said, "Gilbert, give him back his book."

"Whoa, whoa, no way Ludwig. Look at this! He has practically every little information on you!" Gilbert cackled with amusement, going through a few pages and pausing to read a couple. He then jammed the little white book into his hands and tapped at a page while keeping Veneziano from reaching over and snatching it back again.

Ludwig's eyes were drawn onto the page where Gilbert indicated and was almost immediately filled with shock.

In that simple book was every detail of his life. From his name to his occupation to his schedule and even his favorite foods.

"What the hell is this?" Ludwig said more to himself than to the other occupants of the room. He glanced up at Veneziano, who had frozen from his struggles against Gilbert and was now looking very nervous.

"You. Have you been stalking me?" he asked in a clipped tone.

"N-no! I was given this book by one of the other angels! You're my assignment!" Veneziano protested.

"Assignment? What're you? One of those religious missionaries?" Gilbert inquired with amusement, cocking a brow, "'Cause I'll have you know, I'll be damned to Hell either way." And he gave a laugh.

Ludwig skimmed through a few pages, finally flipping the final page and looked at the last item about him.

There were two paragraphs separated by a space, each boxed and written in golden, flowing, and cursive script, unlike the last few pages written in black, ordinary letters.

The first box read:

Ludwig Weillschmidt, he hath forgotten what the sweet taste of true love is like and his soul resounds with such profound sadness that even Heaven may not ignore his cries. Despite this, his heart and mind hath locked that happiness away, unwilling to yield to it and experience his pain again. He, who is uncertain and blind, shall live his life in farce happiness while heedless of the misery he sings.

The second box read:

Veneziano Vargas is granted by Heaven to help this soul who is in such anguish. Guide him gently to turn against his fears and unlock his heart to woe but also true happiness. Show him golden joy but also let him know the tears of loss that comes natural and let it strengthen him even more so and with it, determination and courage shall shine through.

Ludwig snapped the book closed and tossed it back to the Italian, who caught it clumsily.

"This is a load of bullshit," Ludwig growled, standing up, his chair scrapping backwards across his tile floor. Gilbert looked at his brother curiously then went back to his breakfast while still keeping an eye on the scene in front of him.

Veneziano looked crestfallen, clutching the little book to his chest. "B-but… this is the truth! And if I don't help you I–"

"I've had enough games today. I'll be escorting you out," Ludwig said in a voice that left no room for arguments.

Veneziano was about to protest but Ludwig gave another stern look and he stopped, looking distressed. After a few more seconds of slumping in defeat on the kitchen chair, he got up and followed the blonde out.

"Have a good day," Ludwig said shortly once Veneziano was out of his home and closed the door.

Veneziano stared at the door for a few more seconds, already feeling disappointed at the failure to convince his new assignment that he was his guardian angel.

Well, he expected this sort of thing to happen. In all his years of doing this job, people always initially rejected him, rebutting that angels didn't exist. It never got any easier to convince them but this one seemed to be the toughest one to convince yet, judging by the book.

The meeting just a few moments ago only reinforced the fact. There was just something about him that told Veneziano that no matter how much he use his old persuasions or new ones he might come up with or how much he begged for a chance, Ludwig would never relent.

Veneziano didn't think he'd ever met such a strict, no nonsense person. Ludwig just radiated with that sort of aura.

But Veneziano wasn't just about to give up, not after coming so far. This was going to be the last person assigned to him. After he succeeded in his mission, he could become a full-fledged angel. Not only that but Ludwig's unawareness of his own misery makes him want to help him even more.

Ludwig may be strict but if there's one thing people say about Veneziano it's that he's a very unrelenting guy and he's not about to give up just because the German didn't believe in him. He's going to help him one way or another. Maybe it was best not to mention he's Ludwig's guardian though. He wouldn't believe him anyway. That way, maybe Ludwig would accept him more readily.

It's strange though. Normally, people shouldn't be able to read what's inside his Angel Guide. They would just see blank pages. But not only was Ludwig able to read it, Gilbert too. This never happened before.

Veneziano wasn't going to dwell on this too much though, despite the oddity. It was abnormal but maybe the reason they could see it was because this was his last assignment meaning it would be like an exam and thus would be harder. Right now, it's more important to focus on his current predicament.

~*~

Ludwig was weary from the day's antics.

First off, someone somehow overlooked a serious error in their work and now everyone in Ludwig's workplace, including himself, were driven up the wall trying to fix the problem.

Second of all, during that chaotic episode, all the computers in the whole office somehow stopped working. It only took a few moments until everyone realized a virus had invaded every single computer. Now, things were even more hectic as people tried to get rid of the pesky viruses, suspicions running rampant in the air that someone in the office was responsible for it.

Thirdly, the useless manager who kept spouting his 'hero' talk was absent and couldn't be found _anywhere_ in the building. Not that he would be much help anyway, but he could at least calm everyone down or something. So guess who took over his spot? Ludwig. He was always the one who took over anyway because the manager wasn't competent enough and the job always landed in Ludwig's hands to ensure order during meetings and other events.

Gilbert's day hadn't been any better either. He spent hours screaming at people to 'shut the fuck up and chill so I can figure the problem out.' And when Gilbert screams and takes something seriously, you know he's extremely pissed off. Of course he never did figure out how to get rid of the virus so he was reduced to a mumbling mess of curse words, how everything on Earth sucked, how his life sucked, how everyone else sucked, etc.

The fourth thing, to put the icing on the cake on this particularly oh so lovely day, was the Italian man from earlier this morning.

He was sitting on the front steps, gazing at nothing with a spaced-out look in his face, and humming some kind of tune.

Ludwig had no patience left to play his games and if he continued to think he's his guardian angel, he will not overlook the option of calling an asylum. He was exhausted and all he wanted to do was rest, not deal with a street nut.

Sighing, he approached Veneziano who stopped humming and leveled his gaze up at him from his position, still looking a little out-of-there.

"Welcome home!" he chirruped as casually as a mother would greet her son when he came home from school.

"Veneziano, please leave," Ludwig said exasperatedly.

"Will you take me in?" the other asked abruptly.

"What?"

Ludwig knew what he meant but he wanted to be sure.

Veneziano giggled and said, "I meant will you let me live with you?"

"I barely know you and you expect me to let you live in my house? Are you insane?" Ludwig said, growing frustrated by the demands of this random stranger.

"Then I'm not going to leave," Veneziano said in a stubborn voice, much to the blonde's dread. "I'll stay right here until you accept me."

Just then, Gilbert trudged up the steps and, without even a glance at the Italian, unlocked the door and went inside.

Ludwig wanted to get inside too and just relax from the stressful day and he wasn't about to waste his time with this crazy idiot. He'll follow Gilbert's example and let Veneziano do whatever he wanted to do as long as he didn't destroy anything or harassed them too much.

"Do what you want. I don't care as long as you don't bother us. You can stay there as long as you want but it's not going to change my mind," Ludwig finally said.

And with that, Ludwig followed his brother into the house, closing the door behind him, shutting Veneziano away from his life.

If only things were that simple.

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**A/N:** Well, this is more like an introduction so there's really not much here. Stuff will come a little later on. Hopefully, you'll stick by until then and thanks again for reading!


	2. A Storm Begins

**A/N: **Hey guys! Thanks for your support of this story! Glad it didn't turn out as boring as it may sound like! I'll cut the author's note short this time around so let's commence!

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**_Chapter 2_:** A Storm Begins

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It's been a week now and Veneziano was _still_ sitting on his front steps.

Every morning, he'd greet Ludwig and Gilbert with a cheery 'good morning!' and every night, he'd happily welcome them home. It was insane. The kid was seriously going to stay here until he took him into his house.

Ludwig often contemplated calling the police but Veneziano wasn't really doing anything bad. He's just sitting there all day. Didn't he ever get bored?

Gilbert seemed less bothered by it, however, and often greeted Veneziano back with a "yo" or "'sup?" When Ludwig asked how he isn't disturbed by the fact the Italian was sitting on their property like a lawn decoration, he just shrugged and said, "It's not much of a big deal right?"

Ludwig supposed Gilbert was right. Veneziano would eventually get the message and leave to go bother some other stranger. But it was the fact that he was just sitting there probably _still_ thinking he's his guardian angel that perturbed Ludwig.

The kid obviously wasn't in his right mind and what if he went psycho?

That didn't seem possible though.

Veneziano's gaze held a permanent glassy look in his eyes, as though he's somewhere on the border between reality and a dream. He's always humming or singing some cheery tune and sometimes he'd sit on the white metal railings, swinging his feet. He was the very picture of a child.

Still, Ludwig kept his guard up. Serial killers, after all, nearly always appeared normal although he wasn't sure Veneziano would apply to the 'normal' category. He has a strand of curled up hair that always sticks out the side of his head and he thinks he's an angel for crying out loud.

Another issue that bothered Ludwig was the fact that Veneziano hadn't moved from that spot all week.

He was still wearing the same jeans and green hoodie he wore a week ago. This means he either never left the spot on his steps or he doesn't have much variation in his closet. Either way, if Veneziano wasn't leaving the spot, this means he isn't eating or drinking.

But it was none of Ludwig's concern anyway. The guy was old enough to know what he's doing and no one would be dumb enough to just sit there while they starved.

It was Monday now and as usual, Veneziano was sitting on the front steps, staring in fascination at a bird pecking at the grass a few feet away.

He looked up when he heard Gilbert and Ludwig approaching and gave an overenthusiastic wave and a loud "Welcome home!" to which Gilbert responded with a small wave of his own.

Once inside, Gilbert immediately went upstairs, probably to sneak in a nap or something.

Ludwig hoped that he wasn't trying to dodge work because there was a _lot_ to be done. Although the virus was fixed, the error was not so he, along with everyone else including Gilbert, was given a piece of work to take home. Might as well start it now and get it over with. Dinner will have to wait until much later.

He started setting up his things in the living room and organizing papers as well as opening his laptop. Halfway through, however, loud noises could be heard upstairs as well as frantic trampling. A few moments later, Gilbert was stomping down the stairs, slamming his palms down on the living room coffee table to get Ludwig's attention.

Ludwig, used to this kind of behavior, asked, "What did you lose now?"

"I can't find my damn calculator anywhere! And it was so fancy n' expensive too!" Gilbert shouted with distress.

"You mean your graphing calculator? Why don't you just use a regular one?" Ludwig questioned, continuing to shuffle through his papers.

"Nooo! I want _that_ calculator! We've been through so much together! Like that time I wrote how much my calculus teacher sucked! Man that took hell of a long time to type out but it was so worth it when his face turned purple! Besides, I need it to graph stuff!" Gilbert lamented.

It was then Ludwig raised his gaze upward and gave a surprised look. "You're starting work?"

"Well I have no damn choice. I mean, you _did_ threaten to take away my PS2 if I don't do my work, remember?"

Oh yeah he did.

"Didn't you let Francis borrow it over a month ago?" Ludwig supplied.

"Ah! That damn bastard! He's kept my beloved Silbern prisoner for a month? Unforgivable! I'm going over there right now to get it!" Gilbert cried determinedly and rushed straight out the door.

"Gilbert! Wait!" Ludwig called after him. But Gilbert had already gone, quick as a flash. He knew it was no use anyway to convince his brother once his mind was set.

The blonde stared after him and sighed. Gilbert could have just used the computer.

…

He named his calculator Silbern?

"Waa! Gilbert where are you going?"

"Don't worry Silbern! The awesome Gilbert will rescue you!"

"Wait Gilbert! There's going to be a storm tonight!"

Ludwig paused at that.

There's going to be a storm tonight?

He abandoned his work temporarily and made his way to the front door to question Veneziano about it.

The front door was wide open where Gilbert had yanked it open in his haste but the Italian usually perched on the steps was gone.

_Storm? But the weatherman said it was going to be a perfectly clear night tonight_, Ludwig thought. But it was better to make sure.

He closed the door and went back to the living room and clicked the T.V. on, flipping onto the news channel and waited for the weather report.

~*~

"Francis I'll make you pay! I'll make you pay dammit! And stop following me!"

"Gilbert! It's going to be dangerous! Can't you wait until tomorrow to get it?"

"I can't! My PS2 is at stake!" Gilbert wailed, walking in a brisk pace to Francis' house a few blocks away. Veneziano jogged to keep pace with him, trying desperately to get Gilbert to change his mind.

"The storm is going to begin anytime now. Please Gilbert?" Veneziano begged but the other was ignoring him now.

They continued on like this until they reached a rather pleasant looking house with a porch and flowers decorating the front lawn about fifteen minutes later. Light filtered through curtains on the first floor, indicating someone was home.

Gilbert strode up to the door and rang the bell, tapping a foot impatiently on the wood as he waited for Francis to answer. When Francis didn't answer within the time limit of Gilbert's patience, which was ten seconds, he mashed the doorbell multiple times as if it were a button on his game controller, making it impossible for anyone to ignore it.

Finally, the door creaked open and Francis stood within the entryway, looking a little harassed. His blonde shoulder-length hair was slightly askew where his hand ran through and his blue eyes looked a bit droopy: the classic yeah-I'm-coming-keep-your-pants-on image.

His eyes lost its sleepy look the moment he saw Gilbert was standing on his porch and instead, retained a sparkling quality full of mischievous energy.

"Ah! Gilbert! You haven't visited me in such a long time! To what may I owe this ple—"

Francis didn't get to finish his elaborate welcome speech before he was yanked by the collar to meet with Gilbert's glaring red irises.

"Listen here you French bastard. I want my graphing calculator and I want it_ now_."

"Your calculator? Hmm…" Francis tilted his head slightly to the side and his eyes turned to the ceiling, as though contemplating what a calculator is.

Meanwhile, Gilbert stood there, smoldering on the spot as Francis deliberately pretended he was thinking where the math tool might be.

Finally, Francis met Gilbert's gaze again but caught sight of Veneziano standing behind him. The Frenchman gave a slightly surprised look before it was replaced with a seductive smile.

"Hello. I don't believe I've seen you before," Francis purred.

"Hi!" Veneziano greeted back, the flirtatious look totally lost to him.

Francis seemed to have something else to say but a quick jerk from Gilbert forced his attention back to the angry looking man.

"Now's not a time for you to play your stupid games. Just give me my calculator so I can leave this place!"

Francis feigned hurt and said, "You aren't even going to introduce me to your new friend? That's so rude." He glanced over to Gilbert to access the limit he could push him without getting a black eye and found himself in the critical red zone.

"Francis," Gilbert growled lowly, the final warning before someone got hurt.

"Okay, okay. I'll go get it. Are you sure you don't want to come inside?" Francis offered, already moving away.

"No," came the strained reply.

"Alright suit yourself." And he disappeared within the confines of his home.

At that moment, the scattered plopping of water could be heard and a light drizzle quickly followed but it didn't stay light for long. By the time Francis had come back with Gilbert's gray graphing calculator, all that could be heard was the sound of large raindrops beating relentlessly against the earth.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay here until this rain stops?" Francis asked, needing to raise his voice in order to be able to be heard over the din of raging water.

Gilbert shook his head. "I don't think I want to stay here with someone like you. Especially not with Veneziano with me." He rolled his eyes as he said the last part.

"I'm hurt that you think so low of me. Of course I'd never do anything to such a sweet-looking boy," Francis replied.

"Yeah whatever. Let's go home Veneziano."

Gilbert swiveled around on his heels and paused at the edge of the porch, gazing through the thick wall of rain and squinting in an attempt to see what is in front of him. The rain fell so heavy, it made the distant light of a lamppost seem small and infantile.

He sighed and unzipped his thin black coat, putting the calculator against his chest then zipped himself up again, hugging the device to prevent it from falling. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, before plunging himself through the curtain of water.

"Ve. It was nice to meet you!" Veneziano called behind him as he followed Gilbert, waving at Francis who was leaning against the doorframe. He smirked and waved back at the energetic Italian.

"Veneziano huh?" Francis chuckled softly to himself when the two had vanished within the dark, watery confines of the night and closed the door with a soft click.

~*~

It was one thing to look at a heavy rainstorm in the safe comfort of home but it was another thing entirely to be caught in one.

The weighted, angry raindrops pounded against them, trying to pelt them down like miniature bullets from the sky. The water-laden air itself oppressed and suffocated them, making the sprint home all the more difficult.

Within the first minute of running, Gilbert and Veneziano were already soaked to the bone, making them shiver as the chilly rain seeped through their clothes, unhindered by the barrier. Veneziano had already stumbled a couple of times and Gilbert was muttering curses as he ran and saying how much he wished he drove instead.

They could barely see what was in front of them, relying almost entirely on silhouettes and outlines of objects to prevent any run-ins. They weren't willing to slow down, however, because the wind was beginning to pick up, making the chilly rain even colder while lightning flashed threateningly across the sky, causing Veneziano to give out startled cries.

They were almost home with no incidents when Gilbert slipped and slammed into a lamppost.

In any other situation, this might have been hilarious but given the storm and a _crack_, muffled but still audible even through the rain, deemed it otherwise.

Veneziano immediately rushed to Gilbert's side, helping him up.

"Gilbert! Are you okay?" he asked worriedly, peering at his face for any injuries.

"Ow… Shit. Yeah I'm fine. That hurt like hell though," Gilbert said, just barely heard over the rain, clutching his nose. He was pretty sure it wasn't broken. He wasn't so sure about the calculator though.

"Let's hurry back. Ludwig must be pretty worried ve."

They ran the last two minutes and rang the bell, both panting for breath.

Ludwig was instantly at the front door with towels. He handed one to Gilbert, who took it and strode in casually, drying his hair with the towel and making puddles on the floor as he moved through the house.

The blonde then turned to Veneziano, still standing by the door and smiling when his attention turned to the brunette.

"Gilbert slipped and hit a pole so you should check up to make sure he's okay," he said, seemingly not concerned about his current soaked condition.

Ludwig regarded Veneziano for a bit.

The Italian did try to get Gilbert back in before the storm hit so he it was only right that he return the favor and let Veneziano in…

"You can come in to dry up and wait out the storm but that does _not_ mean that you can live here. Understand?" Ludwig said, giving the drenched man a towel.

"Ve! Of course! I understand!" he replied happily, taking the offered item and walking in.

Somehow, Ludwig got the feeling he didn't. He shut the door behind him and followed Veneziano into the living room a little further down the hall of the main entrance.

"Do you want to take a shower? You can catch a cold like that," Ludwig offered.

"It's okay. I can't get sick anyway!" Veneziano declined, "besides, I think Gilbert should go in first."

Ludwig didn't really get what the weird Italian meant by 'can't get sick' but he decided to chalk it up to insanity. But there was one other thing that bothered the German.

"How did you know a storm was coming?" the blonde inquired as Veneziano started wringing his clothes, the water squeezing out and plopping into the carpet.

Even the weatherman had been completely off the mark when he had said it was going to be a clear night. It was only when the storm was right about to hit that he announced there was going to be a storm. So how the hell did Veneziano know in advance, something even the weatherman couldn't predict?

"Um…" Veneziano bit his lip, looking down at his hoodie, seemingly trying to figure out how to answer.

Ludwig got an inkling the answer was because he was a guardian angel. But of course, Italian knew he wouldn't buy it so now he's thinking of some other reason.

"Because I'm good at it!" Veneziano finally answered brightly.

That didn't really answer his question but Ludwig wasn't about to push further because well, obviously as said before, Veneziano's answer is guardian angel.

"Look, since you're going to be staying overnight, you might as well take a shower. You stay here. I'll see if there's any spare clothes for you," Ludwig said walking out the room. "Don't touch anything," he added as he went up the stairs at the end of the hallway.

Veneziano plopped down on the couch, careful to avoid getting some papers on the coffee table and sofa wet.

He looked around the living room as he waited idly, hands fiddling with the bottom of his hoodie.

The room itself was pretty plain. To the upper left corner was the entryway leading to the hall. The couch sat in the middle of the wall to the right of the entryway with a polished coffee table a foot in front. On either side were end tables with green and yellow striped lamps. On the wall opposite was, of course, the television sitting on its table, which is crammed with DVDs, CDs, and a VCR. To the right was a potted plant that was yellowing slightly, in need of some watering. Standing in the upper right corner was a tall bookshelf with thick books shelved neatly within. Finally, on the right was a large window with a nice window seat bordered by red curtains, overlooking the storm, fat raindrops creating a hypnotic pitter-patter on the glass.

Overall, there were no decorations aside from a small painting of a field hanging to the right of the entryway and the potted plant.

Veneziano yawned and rubbed at his eyes sleepily, drowsiness directing his gaze at the floor. There, a few feet from the entryway, he spotted Gilbert's black jacket thrown carelessly onto the carpet with a rectangular lump poking through.

He got up from his seat and approached the abandoned jacket, hesitating for a second when he remembered Ludwig's instructions not to touch anything, then reached out and carefully took out the math instrument.

The calculator was completely drenched, just like the jacket it was thrown away in. A prominent crack could be seen at the top, probably a result from when Gilbert bumped into the pole.

Veneziano took the calculator from its sheath and pressed the on button.

Nothing.

He tried again.

The same result.

Even if the crack at the back of the calculator hadn't done it in, the water would have finished it off.

Maybe if it dried it would work?

So Veneziano put the tool on closest end table and sat back down, feeling the pull of the land of dreams once again.

Not long after, Ludwig reentered the room.

"Okay. I've set everything up. You can go now."

Veneziano nodded sleepily and followed Ludwig upstairs to the bathroom.

He quickly showered and put on the clothes that sat on a wicker laundry basket. They were a little big on him but otherwise it was rather comfortable.

Afterwards, he followed Ludwig to the guest bedroom, stumbling and bumping into walls a few times before falling into the bed, curling up under the sheets and finally falling asleep.

Ludwig closed the door to the room and went to Gilbert's room. He knocked and when he got the muffled reply to come in, he walked in.

Gilbert's room was messy, as per usual.

Magazines, clothes, and games lay sprawled across the floor. His bed rested underneath the window across the door, the curtains shut against the raging storm outside. A nightstand stood beside the head of the bed carrying a lamp with a crooked lampshade. A bookcase stood a few feet away from the foot of the bed, unorganized and full of random things. Next to that was the closet, which was undoubtedly messy. His own television sat to the left of the door on a T.V. table, his game consoles messily put in the shelf. The desk sat on the left wall with a computer resting on top looking out of place with the surprising neatness aside for a few stray pencils and pens.

The room was the very picture of what a sterotypical adolescent's room would look like, typical of Gilbert.

"Gilbert, you okay? Veneziano told me you slipped and hit a pole," Ludwig said.

His older brother groaned, shifting underneath the blankets that hid him from view.

"Argh. Don't remind me. The awesome Gilbert does _not_ slip and hit poles," was the muttered reply.

"Are you just going to dry off and sleep? You'll get sick like that."

Gilbert snorted. "Yeah right. I'm so full of awesomeness, it's impossible for me to get sick. Besides, I'm tired."

Ludwig decided to leave him alone now to allow him to rest from the turbulent journey back home. So he shut the door and went back to the living room to complete some work.

The storm continued to howl and rage outside.

* * *

**Author's ramblings section:** M'k and we're done with another chapter! That makes me very happy. Oh and before I go, there were some reviewers who said this is similar to Pita Ten. Wow I love that manga, one of the very first I've read. The ending was bittersweet though but it gave me that great feeling inside. Pita Ten wasn't really on my mind when I made this but it's still a great manga! Glad that some of you thought it was similar though cuz it means Pita Ten is still subconciously with me XD

P.S. As you can see, I've changed A/N at the bottom to author's ramblings section cuz this isn't so much an author's note as it is me rambling.

See you all later!


	3. Gilbert Weillschmidt

* * *

**_Chapter 3:_** Gilbert Weillschmidt

* * *

The smell of food cooking stirred Ludwig from his sleep, which was strange, his groggy mind told him, because the only other times he'd ever awoken to the smell of breakfast was back when Gilbert and he lived in that dinghy apartment years ago and even then it was always tinged with smoke and burnt food along with a few curses.

He opened his eyes and allowed himself to adjust to the sudden influx of invading light. When he could see clearly, he sat up in his bed and allowed himself another minute to catch up to reality.

When his mind cleared a bit, he realized that he had somehow moved over to the right side of the bed. The left side had the covers thrown off, the mattress still a bit warm.

Ludwig only wondered about the oddity for one more minute before he decided it wasn't important and got up to go through his routine.

When he was ready, he went downstairs where the smell of coffee and eggs were stronger. Upon entering the kitchen, he found Veneziano humming happily as he fried some eggs over the stove.

"Good morning!" he chimed upon seeing Ludwig.

"Veneziano, why are you in my kitchen making breakfast?" the German sighed.

"Because I thought it'd be nice for you to wake up to breakfast for once," Veneziano said, poking at an egg, "there weren't any ingredients for panini so I made fried eggs instead!"

While it was rather considerate of Veneziano, Ludwig doubted he knew how weird it is for a random person, and a guest for that matter, to make breakfast for the occupants.

"Ve, where's Gilbert?" the intruder asked.

"Give him five more minutes. If he doesn't wake up by then, I usually wake him up," Ludwig said, taking a mug and filling it with coffee.

He pulled up a chair and sat down, sipping his coffee and idly waiting for the allotted time he allowed Gilbert to sleep in then go wake him up practically everyday.

When the five minutes were up, Ludwig got up and started off towards Gilbert's room.

"Make sure you don't set the place on fire," he said as he left which was answered by a bright, "Okay!"

Ludwig made his way up the stairs and entered his brother's room.

"Gilbert it's time to get up," he stated.

No response.

"Gilbert."

A rustle.

"Come on. Get up. I don't want to take any drastic measures."

"Geez… It mornin' already? Argh… Frickin' mornin' go screw yerself…" was the mumbled, hoarse reply.

"Gilbert, you have until three before I dump you on the floor."

"Yeah, I'm get—" A coughing fit interrupted the sentence and the lump covered by blankets shook.

Ludwig sighed. He'd expected this but hoped and prayed to god it didn't happen.

"Argh, Ludwig. I feel like shit…"

Gilbert is sick, probably with a fever. If he hadn't known Silbern was special, he would have thought his brother ran into that storm on purpose just to weasel out of work.

But he knew. So now, he had a dilemma. Either stay home and take care of Gilbert or leave a bottle of medicine, a glass of water, and some quick meal for lunch and go to work. Of course, there was also the Five Stages of Sick Gilbert to consider.

First was the whining. He'd complain about how he felt like crap, how his head hurt or body aches, how the world is unfair, how blue the sky is… Second was the anger. He'd be irritated if one little thing goes amiss and gets mad at pretty much anything. Third was the sulking. After his temper tantrum was over, he'd sulk and refuse to talk or even look at anyone. Fourth was the period of sleep. Basically whoever wakes him up during this time, dies. The fifth and, thankfully, last stage was the stage of calm. This is when Gilbert turned back to his normal obnoxious self.

Ludwig didn't exactly feel like going through the Five Stages today. Don't get him wrong, he loved his brother, but considering how late he stayed up last night, he didn't think he'd even last round one.

So, what to do…

"Ludwig! Are you done waking Gilbert up yet?"

Veneziano.

Dare he do what he's thinking of doing?

Ludwig went back downstairs to meet with Veneziano's curious look.

"Gilbert's sick," the German said, straight to the point before the other could ask.

"Oh, that's too bad," Veneziano said, looking genuinely sad at Gilbert's predicament.

"I can't stay here to take care of him either. There's too much work to be done and with Gilbert out of commission, it'll be even worse. We'll be lucky enough if the boss won't dock our pay for the absence but I don't even want to think of what'll happen if both of us aren't there," Ludwig explained, "So—"

"You want me to take care of him for you! Of course!" Veneziano finished a little too gleefully. Ludwig was already starting to regret his decision. First of all, this was a guy that knew everything about him but he knew nothing about. Second of all, the Italian wasn't exactly in his right mind. Third of all, something tells him Veneziano isn't the most reliable person to count on.

Ludwig had no choice though. It was either stay home and get fired or go to work and leave a possibly psycho person to look after his brother. The latter seemed better actually. Gilbert wasn't exactly in his right mind either so he can make another nice, crazy friend.

"You can leave everything to me! I'll make sure to take good care of Gilbert!"

Ludwig didn't think he wants to come home tonight to face the consequences of his decision.

~*~

After Ludwig went back upstairs to talk to Gilbert about the arrangement and giving Veneziano information about taking care of his older brother, he left, leaving the house alone with two occupants.

Well first things first, a healthy breakfast is a good way to start the day!

But huh, Ludwig seems to have left without eating his share. Maybe he was in a hurry. In any case he'd better get Gilbert his breakfast.

Veneziano picked up a dish of eggs and went upstairs, knocking on Gilbert's door before entering.

"Yeah."

Veneziano took that as the cue to go in. He carefully stepped over the things that littered the floor and presented the eggs to Gilbert.

"Here you go! I made breakfast for you!"

Gilbert looked sullenly at the yellow and white solidified goop. He had a band-aid across the bridge of his nose from where he hit the lamppost. "I don't feel like eggs. They're too white."

"Oh okay then I guess you don't feel like eating. How about orange juice then?" Veneziano asked, undeterred by the lame rebuttal.

"Fine…"

With that, Veneziano bounced back down the stairs to get the jug of orange juice he saw in the fridge while he was taking out the eggs.

On the way to the kitchen, he glanced into the living room, spotting Gilbert's black jacket draped over the back of the couch and remembered the calculator. He stopped just outside the entryway and went in, deciding to take the items to their proper owner.

He poured the orange juice into a glass and took all three things back upstairs.

"Hey Gilbert! I got the orange juice ve!"

"Why do you have to be so loud?" Gilbert complained, "My head hurts like hell, I ache all over, I'm so thirsty I feel like I can drink a whole lake, my life sucks, and I just want to roll over and die."

"Oh sorry. I'll be quieter from now on. Here's your juice," Veneziano said in a much lower voice and handed the yellow-orange liquid to Gilbert who sat up, took it and gulped it down.

"I also brought your jacket and calculator up for you," he continued, giving the objects to Gilbert.

The sick man considered the jacket for a moment before tossing it to the floor but didn't do the same for the math instrument.

He paused and looked it over, red eyes evaluating the damage and fingering the crack and frowning. He took the tool out of the sheath and tried to turn it on with no effect.

"Ah… um… I thought if it dried it'd work again but I guess not, ve…"

Gilbert ran a hand through his silvery hair mussing it up more than it already was. "It's fine. This thing was old anyway. I don't even know why I kept it for this long."

Veneziano looked down at the broken and useless calculator and noticed Gilbert's neutral expression.

"Is… Is this special to you?" he asked tentatively, testing the waters.

Gilbert looked at Veneziano critically for a moment before he answered. "I guess so," he sighed, reclining onto his pillow and looking thoughtfully at the calculator "I mean me and Ludwig… We didn't exactly grow up in the best conditions. Buying this piece of crap was like a hobo trying to buy a diamond. We scraped and saved for months before we finally fucking bought it. Major accomplishment. But it's broken now. Don't even know why I kept it for so long. Oh well. It served its purpose."

He tossed it along with the jacket onto the floor, making it clatter and skitter across the wood.

Veneziano stayed silent for a while, unsure of what to do or say. Maybe he shouldn't have asked such a personal question.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked…"

Gilbert sighed again, sinking into his blanket. "It's fine. I chose to tell you. Just don't tell Ludwig I told you about something from our past. He hates it when I tell it to people he doesn't know so well or trusts so we'll be in major trouble if he finds out so keep it our secret, 'k?"

Veneziano nodded. He felt bad that something this important was broken even if it held no special meaning to himself.

"But this calculator is special to Gilbert… Maybe it brings back memories of how it feels to finally be able to get it after all the trouble you went through."

Gilbert let out a short burst of laughter and said, "Sure whatever you want to think kid. If I didn't feel like shit, I would probably pat you on the head but I do so leave me alone now and don't bug me."

He finally lay down fully on the bed and used the blanket to cover his head as well, seemingly ready to go to sleep.

Veneziano quietly took the empty orange juice glass from the nightstand already crowded with pill bottles, an alarm clock, a half-full glass of water, and a cell phone and left.

~*~

Ludwig came home to the wonderful smell of stew.

Okay that wasn't so bad. So maybe Veneziano didn't burn down his house or looted it while he was gone but what about Gilbert?

Veneziano, hearing the front door opening and closing, appeared from the kitchen, holding a ladle and wearing a white apron and bandana to hold his hair back. He smiled upon seeing Ludwig.

"Welcome home!" he greeted brightly.

"Thanks. How's Gilbert doing?" Ludwig asked, trying not to think about how much of a housewife situation this is starting to look like. Where'd he get that apron and bandana anyway?

"He's doing fine! He wouldn't talk to me though…"

So Gilbert's already in his sulky stage huh? He's almost fully recovered. He should be back in shape the day after then.

"That's fine. He'll get over it soon," Ludwig said, heading up the stairs.

He went up to his brother's room and knocked then opened the door a sliver.

"How're you feeling?"

Some movements from the bed.

…

He's perfectly fine then.

Ludwig shut the door once again and went down to the kitchen.

"The stew's done already! I wanted to make pasta but there weren't any ingredients. Do you want to eat it now?"

"It's fine. Just leave my share somewhere. I'll get to it eventually."

Veneziano looked a confused. "You're not eating? But you didn't eat breakfast this morning. Aren't you hungry?"

"I ate lunch. It's no problem. I'll eat eventually."

"Well okay," Veneziano said, looking unconvinced.

"I still have work and Gilbert's not going to recover until Thursday so I guess you can continue staying here until then," Ludwig said, already heading out the room.

He still didn't trust Veneziano or considered him his friend but he still felt the need to give something back for helping him out.

"But," he hesitated for a second longer, "if you want, I guess you can stay for two days longer afterwards as a thank you for taking care of Gilbert."

Veneziano looked absolutely delighted, his brown eyes lighting up and a wide beam immediately took over his expression.

"Thank you Ludwig!" he cried happily, launching himself towards Ludwig and giving a hug.

"Um… You're welcome. Can you please get off me?"

"Oh sorry," he said sheepishly, "I should take this stew to Gilbert now!"

Veneziano merrily walked out of the room, humming something under his breath as he did so, carrying a warm bowl of the stew he made.

Once again, Ludwig hoped he wasn't making a big mistake but… maybe he should just give this a try anyway.

~*~

The next morning went by almost the same as yesterday.

Ludwig found himself on the right side of his bed again, Veneziano had cooked breakfast, and then he was out to work.

Once Ludwig left, the Italian went to check on Gilbert but found he was still asleep.

_I shouldn't bother him._

He made a quick lunch for Gilbert when he awoke: a sandwich with a glass of water on the side. Since Gilbert was feeling better, maybe he's able to eat something solid now. Veneziano pondered about what to do next. Yesterday he was sketching so maybe he could finish that?

He went into the living room and sat on the floor in front of the coffee table where a piece of paper was faced down beside which was a pencil.

The time quietly ticked away as he lightly stroked the pencil tip across the white paper, humming softly as he did so.

Only when it was early in the afternoon did Veneziano stop. He picked up the picture and held it up to the light coming from the window.

"Done!" he announced proudly, gazing upon the beautiful creation he crafted by his own hands. He looked at the picture for a little while more before he realized that it was probably getting late.

Veneziano quickly scrambled up from his spot on the floor and into Gilbert's room.

Gilbert was awake by now, looking a little dazed as most people do when they have just woken up.

"Hello Gilbert! Do you want lunch?" Veneziano asked, careful to keep a low voice as not to agitate the sick person.

"Lunch?" he asked, almost confused. He glanced at the alarm clock and then nodded slowly, seemingly still not fully awake but not tired enough to go back to sleep.

"Okay." And Veneziano quietly shut the door behind him, quickly got the prepared lunch, and went back to the bedroom.

"Here you go!" the Italian said cheerfully as he handed the plate to Gilbert and put the glass of water on the nightstand.

"Thanks," he said taking the sandwich, seemingly in a much better mood.

"Are you feeling better now ve?"

"Unfortunately. I have to get back to work tomorrow," Gilbert replied, his face twisting temporarily into distaste at the thought.

"I'm sure Gilbert will get through!" Veneziano said encouragingly.

"Argh I hope so. The manager wouldn't care but the vice president would probably have my ear… Damn Asians have to be so workaholic and perfect and on schedule," he mumbled bitterly, biting into his sandwich. He glanced over at the piece of paper Veneziano was holding.

"What's that?" he asked through a mouthful of sandwich.

"It's a drawing! You wanna see it?" Veneziano asked excitedly.

"Eh, sure."

Gilbert brushed the crumbs on his fingers on the blanket and took the paper from the animated Veneziano.

It was a really well drawn portrait of Ludwig expertly made. The lines were carefully drawn and if there were any parts that were erased, it didn't show. The shading enhanced the quality of the work and gave the figure depth.

"You drew this?" Gilbert asked, amazed at the startling resemblance between the sketch and the real thing.

"Uh huh! My nonno, my grandfather, taught me!" Veneziano said happily, "He said I should practice so I've been drawing every single clie- I mean um… friend I've had!"

Gilbert nodded and handed the portrait back.

"You're very good at it. Your grandpa taught you well," he said, taking another bite of the sandwich.

Veneziano looked down at his artwork then looked back up to Gilbert. He kept switching between the two for a few more moments before he finally spoke.

"Nah Gilbert. Can I ask something?" he asked.

"Sure. Shoot."

"Well… I've kinda just noticed but you and Ludwig don't look a lot alike even though you're brothers. Ludwig has blonde hair and blue eyes but you have silver hair and red eyes and…" Veneziano trailed off uncertainly.

"Oh that? Well that's 'cause we're not blood brothers. We're adopted. Or more specifically I adopted Ludwig right after I turned eighteen," Gilbert said casually despite telling something very personal.

Veneziano looked surprise. "Oh… It must have been hard for you…" he said sadly.

Gilbert gulped down the water and replied, "It would have been worse if we stayed where we were." He finished off the last of the sandwich and handed the plate and glass to the other.

"Here I'm done. It was a good sandwich," Gilbert said yawning, "But I think I'm going to catch my last snooze before I wake up in ungodly hours again." And buried himself under the blanket again.

"Okay. I'll make sure I'm quiet," Veneziano said, getting up. He was about to leave when Gilbert stopped him.

"Oh yeah, by the way."

The Italian turned back to look at the lump of blankets underneath which the elder Weillschmidt lay.

"I don't know if you're really a guardian angel or if angels even exist or not and I don't really give a crap. But if what you're saying you're set out to do is the truth then I'll help because... I think no one deserves happiness more than Ludwig does."

Veneziano nodded despite the fact Gilbert couldn't see him, joyful he got an approval and shut the door quietly behind him once again.

* * *

**Author's rambling section:** Heeey! I actually tried researching what food Italians and Germans eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And is it just me or does this chapter seem a bit rushed? O.O I guess I'll try better next chapter...

No offense to Asians, by the way. I'm Asian myself. But then again, if you can't poke fun of yourself and your own nationality once in a while, you wouldn't be a fan of Hetalia and reading this fic now woulld you? ;)

**A/N: **Erm... panini is a quick Italian breakfast. It's like a sandwich. Now I'm not really sure if that's what Italians really typically eat for breakfast but I'm trying T.T

nonno is grandfather in Italian. If it's incorrect I blame the internet -.-


	4. Ah Office Life

**_

* * *

_**

**_Chapter 4:_** Ah... Office Life

* * *

Ludwig awoke the next morning to find himself, once again, sleeping on the right side of the bed. The left side was vacant with the blanket thrown off as though someone had slept there then got up. He's got to do something about that. Maybe it was becoming a new habit?

Veneziano was making breakfast again downstairs. This time it was just toast with some butter.

"Good morning Ludwig!" he greeted the same as the last two days.

"Morning…"

"Gilbert's feeling better now right? He's going to work now?"

Ludwig sighed as he took the mug of coffee pre-prepared for him and drank half of it. He's not even going to wait the five minutes opportunity for Gilbert to wake up by himself, which he never did anyway. Chances are, it's going to take a little longer for his brother to wake up today.

He climbed upstairs and entered Gilbert's bedroom.

"Oi Gilbert. Get up. Breakfast is ready."

Rustle.

"Gilbert."

"Argh c'mon Ludwig. I still don't feel good. I mean I still feel achy and in pain and you still want me to get up?" Gilbert groaned.

"Don't feign sick. I know you're well. Now hurry up and get up."

"…"

"Gilbert," Ludwig said warningly.

"…"

The German sighed. It has come to this.

Every single time his brother got better from an illness, he would pretend he was still sick and absolutely refuse to budge even though Ludwig knew he was fine. Every single time it involved drastic measures.

Ludwig pulled the cover off of Gilbert and seeing that he still hasn't moved, took hold of his legs and yanked him on the floor.

"Ow! Shit! Hey! This floor isn't exactly a bed of feathers you know! I think I—"

Ludwig didn't stop at that. Oh no.

He continued to drag Gilbert down the hall and into the bathroom.

He hoped his brother knew what this meant and to stop the charade before things got real ugly for him.

Unfortunately for him, Gilbert still had no clue what the future entails and stubbornly refused to get up himself and start brushing his teeth.

He's forced Ludwig's hand then.

Ludwig hauled Gilbert up and dropped him in the tub. He finally gets it because his eyes widen but it was too late. Before the red-eyed man could start protesting or even move, turned on the shower to cold.

"HOLY SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

Veneziano looked up at the general direction of the bathroom before Ludwig came tromping down the stairs again.

"Nah… was that Gilbert?"

Ludwig slid into his seat in front of his plate of toast and said, "Yeah. Don't worry 'bout him. He's fine."

Thirty minutes later, a grumpy and stormy-looking Gilbert slunk down the stairs and sat sulkily into the kitchen table in front of his nice, hot breakfast.

"You know you didn't have to do that," Gilbert grumbled.

"I've warned you," Ludwig replied simply.

"Yeah but c'mon! Spraying me with cold water that early in the morning? What kind of sick twisted man are you? You're just downright cruel," Gilbert accused. "Besides! This is no way to treat your older brother! I get no respect from you nowadays. You've gone too far! I should—"

"Gilbert eat your breakfast," Ludwig interrupted in an almost monotonous way.

Gilbert stopped his rant but was still grumbling under his breath as he started on his toast.

When it was time to head off, Ludwig felt a bit uncomfortable leaving Veneziano alone in the house but what he promised cannot be undone so he had no choice.

"Okay Veneziano. We'll be going now. Make sure you don't do anything funny such as stealing or anything otherwise I'll be forced to call the police and kick you out," Ludwig warned.

"Yes sir! I'll be careful! I'll see you later then!" Veneziano said as cheerfully as ever. He followed Ludwig to the front door and waved as Gilbert and he pulled out of the driveway.

~*~

The Muse Laptop Co. was one of the largest and best in the industry. It gave top services, used top-of-the-line technology, and came up with, not only designs pleasing to the eye, but designs that would help make it last a lifetime.

The company was divided up into three parts: the design, the manufacture, and the profit branch.

The design branch, as the name suggests, makes creative, new, fun designs that appealed to a lot of people. Not only that but they can also customize. So, a person might draw what they want their laptop to look like and the custom design section of the design branch would help make adjustments if it needs any then send it back to the customer for approval. Can't draw? No problem. Just send in a description of what the laptop should look like and the designers do the rest. Once both sides agree, the custom design would forward it to the manufacture branch, which is also divided into two sections.

The first section is for mass production. Since Muse Laptop Co. uses vertical integration, the manufacture branch stretches from the mines down to the making of wires to the creation of the laptop itself. The second section is completely devoted to custom designs. This section creates a laptop exactly as shown in the piece of paper the customers sent down to a T including the material they wanted so Muse Laptop does own quite a number of areas with raw material.

The last branch was the profit branch. This was where ideas were put forward to help the laptops sell better such as ads, where people monitor the competition and the company's own current events, where changes were made for the rest of the company, and where people oversee the distribution and selling of the product. This section was also responsible for customer services to keep the employees even more occupied.

The profit branch in the main building of Muse Laptop Co. was where Ludwig and Gilbert worked in. Everyday was bustling with phone calls or complaints and not a day goes by where someone hasn't spilled their coffee one way or another because of the general confusion that a certain _manager_ was supposed to prevent.

Yes indeed, the profit branch was the most unreliable branch of the three despite how well off it made Muse Laptop Co.

Ludwig swore that the only other _two _sane people besides him are Honda Kiku, a quiet and serious, Japanese and Vash Zwingli, a straight-down Swiss who hates nonsense. Too bad it was an everyday occurrence at the office. Ludwig could only imagine the exasperation and anger he would experience on a daily basis.

Coming out of the elevator, cubicles are the immediate things seen. To the left, however, was a nice, long window with a potted plant sitting at each end, happily soaking up the morning sunlight that reminded everyone they had a long while before work ended. To the right somewhere was the door leading to the break room and the coffee makers that broke down at least once a month because of the overuse, the manager being one of the main reasons for their breakage. Also to the right was the door to the meeting room, the door leading to the office supplies and the copier, and the door to the manager's room.

Usually, the office was pretty empty because it was fifteen minutes early. People don't start coming in until at least twenty minutes later. Then there were the late stragglers who can't go to work on time if their life depended on it. That usually included the manager. Why was he the manager again?

Today, however, Ludwig and Gilbert were a little late because the latter had insisted halfway through the trip to go back for his iPod. So instead of being fifteen minutes early, they were right on time with the late-five-minuters, which meant the office would be busy already.

They stepped into the elevator, as usual, and while riding up, the elder put on his headphones and turned on his iPod, blasting his music so loud, Ludwig could clearly hear the lyrics.

As the elevator doors opened, the sight of dozens of bustling people running around the room met them. Voices and noises filled the air with the occasional ringing of a telephone punctuating.

Immediately after the brothers stepped out of the elevator, an Asianic man with a ponytail came into view or more specifically, came into Gilbert's view.

"Where were you aru?" Wang Yao, the company vice-president/secretary, asked.

Gilbert just strolled into the chaos called 'office,' ignoring Wang as he went along.

"Well you have a lot of work to complete now! You have two day's worth to finish today! You better start or else there would be consequences aru," Wang chided, following Gilbert to his cubicle, his voice growing ever fainter the deeper they went into the crowd of idling and moving people

Ludwig didn't dally on that spot for long. He went into his own cubicle among the dozen others and started on work. There were papers on the progress reports, price and values, etc.

He started off with recent updates on the company.

In about an hour, Toris Lorinaitis, the office boy, would bring him a small cup of coffee, a cappuccino to be exact, before running off to do other errands. Poor guy's been overworked for years but never complained. It was about time this place hired another office boy.

Half an hour since work started, Ludwig was shuffling through his papers from his briefcase when he realized that this wasn't his. It was Gilbert's. The evidence? Messily organized papers that looked as though they were stuffed inside in a hurry and a few papers with stains on them. Definitely Gilbert's.

Ludwig sighed, closed the briefcase, and got up to go give his brother his briefcase and to get his own back.

He walked to the front of the office with the elevators and turned to go to the left side of the office when he stopped abruptly.

There, standing by the window was Francis with… Veneziano? What the hell was he doing here?

Forgetting the briefcase switch up for a second, he went up to the Italian, who was merrily talking to the Frenchman who seemed to be hinting suggestively at him.

Ludwig didn't waste any time.

He walked up to Veneziano and pulled him away a few feet.

"Hi Ludwig!" he chimed after an initial second of confusion at being suddenly pulled away.

"Did he do anything to you?" Ludwig asked hurriedly, cutting right to the chase.

Veneziano just blinked. "Do what?"

Ludwig wondered if he pretended to be stupid to get something out of him.

"Did he…"

Oh god he's going to look like an idiot asking him this.

"Did he… touch you anywhere you didn't want to be touched?"

Veneziano looked at him with a puzzled expression then asked, "Where?"

Ludwig didn't like where this conversation is going.

"Never mind," he mumbled.

But there was something else to ask other than whether or not the infamous Francis had performed another dastardly deed.

"Veneziano, what are you doing here?" Ludwig asked, changing topic.

The puzzled look vanished completely and a joyful one replaced it.

"I'm going to be working here as an office boy!"

Ludwig stared at Veneziano in disbelief.

No way. This cannot be happening.

First, this guy comes up to his house and says he's his guardian angel. Second he wants Ludwig to let him live in his house. Third, he has a book on his personal information. Now fourth, he's going to be working in the same area as Ludwig.

Unbelievable! This was no different than stalking!

Ludwig narrowed his eyes at Veneziano, who now looked uneasy.

"Is Ludwig upset?" he asked.

Is he upset? What sort of question is that? A psycho Italian is following him around!

"Veneziano, I am asking you politely to stop following me," Ludwig said in a low voice.

"But… um… I need to earn money so I can move somewhere else because Ludwig won't let me live in his house," Veneziano said, fidgeting. "I didn't mean to make Ludwig unhappy…"

Ludwig loosened up upon hearing the explanation but his suspicions weren't completely cleared.

What Veneziano said did make sense. He probably needed a job in order to get a home instead of staying at a random stranger's. But was his workplace the only place hiring? Probably not and the pay isn't exactly the best. Ludwig was sure he could have gotten a better job.

"It's… okay Veneziano. I'm sorry I got angry," Ludwig finally said.

Veneziano immediately brightened up again and a wide smile split his face.

"It's okay Ludwig! I have to go a meet someone named Toris now! He's going to give me a tour!"

The other just nodded but before Veneziano could run off again, Ludwig grabbed him back.

"Listen, you see that man?" he asked in a hushed voice, just loud enough for the Italian to hear him. He pointed discreetly towards Francis, who was flirting with one of the women workers. "That's Francis and I want you to stay away from him if you're going to be working here from now on."

The Frenchman they were watching slowly slid his hand to touch the woman's bottom but unfortunately for Francis, this was an experienced worker, which means she has dealt with the man for years. The woman just easily stepped away and walked off as if nothing happened.

"Why? He doesn't seem bad. He gave me a ride here!" Veneziano questioned, seemingly confused again.

Ludwig wondered if anyone could be _this_ dense. They just watched him sexually harass someone for crying out loud. It couldn't _get_ anymore screamingly obvious.

At that moment, Francis looked and spotted them and gave a small wave towards them, smiling charmingly.

"Come on," Ludwig said, taking a hold of Veneziano's arm, "I'm going to take you to Toris."

"Oh okay! Thanks Ludwig!"

Toris was carrying a stack of papers when they found him and he was hurrying among the maze of cubicles. Ludwig and Veneziano had to fast-walk alongside him.

"Hi! I'm the new office boy! My name's Veneziano!" the Italian introduced without hesitation.

Toris, still moving along, looked to the side and gave him a relieved smile.

"Oh thank goodness. Here, help me carry these please. I'll give you a tour afterwards but it's pretty busy so we might not even get around touring."

"Sure!"

Toris stopped near the wall of the cubicles to prevent backup to the flow of people and put the pile of papers on the floor with a dull thud. He gave Veneziano half then hefted his half up again.

"Okay, let's go," Toris said before once again making his way through the crowd.

"I'll see you later Ludwig!" Veneziano called behind him as he followed but then bumped into a water cooler.

The German sighed, rubbing his temples.

He could already tell that the office was going to be much more hectic with Veneziano around.

~*~

It wasn't even three hours later that a commotion arose from the office staff somewhere near Ludwig.

He arose from his seat to see what was the cause. He didn't even need to because someone shouted out, "Hey! Where's my report? It was supposed to have arrived half an hour ago! Does someone have it?"

Someone else a little further away replied, "Yeah I think I have it! Actually I have ten of these reports but I can't tell whose they could be."

"I have twenty of these things!"

"Why is there a stack of blank white paper here?"

"Man if I don't get my report soon…"

"Eh I don't care anymore. Whatever."

That was Gilbert slacking off at any opportunity that presented itself, with any little excuse.

But before Ludwig could speak, Vash had already beaten him to the chase.

"Everyone quiet down!" a scowling blonde yelled.

Everyone did as told because it's unwise not do whatever the guy who's carrying a gun twenty-four seven says. Isn't there supposed to be some policy against that? Who's crazy enough to carry a frickin' gun here? Well, someday someone's gonna sue.

"I have a headache so let's resolve this quickly and quietly before I decide to blow up all of your asses."

Just not now because y'know… work and all. It's a busy life.

Ludwig sat back down. Everything is being handled already.

Until the manager burst from his office.

"Hey guys! I have another brilliant idea to—"

"Aw!"

"Geez man! Give us a break!"

"Boo! You suck!"

Alfred F. Jones crossed his arms over his chest and said with a face of a five year old who couldn't get what he wanted, "But you haven't even heard my idea yet!"

"We don't need to 'cause we already know it sucks," a bored female voice called out from somewhere. That was probably Yukimo Suzaku, one of the, at least, moderately good workers in the office. She got her work done on time, got down to business if needed, and was reliable. Perhaps if she didn't tend to get so wild sometimes, she would be one of the best employee out there. "Besides, ideas are shared only at meetings, which is every Friday and what do ya know, it's not Friday," she continued.

Ludwig decided not to participate in the 'shoot down the manager' game, which occurs most everyday. Instead, he needed to know who the heck caused such a mix up in the papers. Something in the back of his head already knew though but before he could grasp it, someone shouted out, "Oh my god yay! Someone replaced the water in the cooler with chocolate milk!"

Now the office's attention turned to the lone water cooler and the woman standing in front of it, looking gleeful about the change from boring ol' H two O. And indeed, replacing the clear liquid was a brown one.

But before anyone could say anything, someone cried from the break room, "Hey! Who left all these boxes of spaghetti in the cupboards?"

Talk started all throughout the office and Ludwig finally recognized who the only culprit could be.

Veneziano.

He was the one helping Toris carry a stack of papers earlier and office boys could usually go wherever they needed so they had access to a lot of different places.

Wasn't Toris watching over the newcomer? But then again, Toris is a pretty busy guy. He's always bustling around and the only time he rests is lunchtime.

Ludwig decided he needed to talk to Veneziano about the mess he made. He probably doesn't know how the office works and Toris is obviously too busy to keep an eye on him so maybe Ludwig could take over the responsibility and show Veneziano the ropes to help ease some of the old office boy's burdens.

"Holy smokes! The supply room is on fire!"

Right after the office was back in shape that is.

* * *

**Author's rambling section:** Sigh... I think I would like to work in an office like that. It'd be so much fun :3 And wouldn't it be great if such a company exists? Where you just send in designs and they'll make it for you? That'd be so excellent!

Um... I dunno how exactly an office works so I just put the sterotypical office that comes into mind. I'm not even sure how a company works but please just humor me. This company is special okay?

I also added an OC lulz. Dun worry, she's just a minor character. I added her because it'd be kinda sad if this story didn't have more female characters and the legit females won't appear for a long while.


	5. Conference

**A/N:** Ha! I bet you all thought this was gonna be another one of those incomplete works. Don't worry I'm here to disappoint you all :) Don't worry this will never be an incomplete work. I'll finish this even if it kills me damnit! Actually I just had a bit of a roadblock here but I hope I pulled it out all right.

Oh and thanks to Sha Moli for pointing out that Vash is Swiss and not a Swede (even though I didn't fix it until a month later.) I'm sorry! You can't blame me though. They both start with a S and W! DX

* * *

**_Chapter 5:_** Conference

* * *

"Veneziano," Ludwig sighed tiredly.

"Huh? Oh sorry!" the brunette across from him apologized for the nth time, snapping his attention back to Ludwig.

They were currently sitting at the round table in the break room on a Friday morning. After the disasters done to the office the previous day were taken care of (including the manager), Ludwig searched through the maze of cubicles and people and finally managed to find Veneziano and tried to get him to understand the inner workings of the office. Sadly for Ludwig, he can't seem to grasp the concept so easily so teaching stretched on to the next day, which led to the current situation.

He explained about how Toris would be unable to show him around and that he had taken over the responsibility, which Veneziano readily agreed to.

Ludwig gave Veneziano a tour around first, introducing him to some of the people. He got along with all of them pretty well which was unsurprising since both parties were so friendly. Afterwards, he started walking the brunette through the working of the office, which led to their current situation.

Ludwig's explanations about the schedules of employees and their daily askance and how he would be asked to do errands were almost always punctuated by a "Why?" or "Why not?" or he'd interrupt with a story of his own which led to something completely off topic, only stopping when Ludwig gave a stern look to which Veneziano would sheepishly apologize.

Finally, the German just stopped and said, "This is going nowhere."

"Really? I thought we went through a lot today!" Veneziano said happily.

"No we're not. I've just barely managed to finish office schedules and that took us almost an hour. It'll take another two just to tell you what certain people want each and every morning," Ludwig muttered, tapping a finger on the table, thinking how best to get the information into the spacey Italian's head. He supposed he was lucky he had almost an infinite amount of practiced patience from the years of dealing with his brother. Any normal person might have already stomped out the room by now.

Veneziano looked curiously at Ludwig while he pondered through the options, staring at the table as he did so.

"Hey Ludwig. Do you like this job?" Veneziano asked, earning a raised brow.

"Why are you asking?" Ludwig asked slowly.

"Well," Veneziano started, humming a little before continuing, "because business seems to be pretty boring."

Ludwig was unimpressed by that reason. Work is work to earn money. It had nothing to do with anything else but he suppose he chose this career primarily because he had a sort of talent for this so it was easier to do than most other people. Besides, he wouldn't have taken up this job if he didn't like it.

"If I didn't like this job, I wouldn't be doing it," Ludwig said, voicing his thoughts.

Veneziano blinked and looked like he was about to say something but the German wasn't about to let him go on about another random story. They still had a lot to go through and the meeting that starts after lunch is going to cut a lot of time off.

"Alright since you can't seem to grasp the office in one go, I suppose we can just go through it slowly day by day and I suppose I'll help you through it," Ludwig said.

The newcomer's mind seemed to have quickly switched topics for his face went from one of inquiry to a smile.

"Okay!"

_Well, at least he's easily distracted_, Ludwig thought as he got up from his seat.

"Alright then. Since we're taking it slow, I'll start off by showing you what some of the people need everyday. Follow me."

He walked out into the office, stopping just out of the break room and when Veneziano was standing beside him, he started.

He started off by pointing to a few of the people busy in their cubicles close to the elevators.

"The man in the first cubicle on the left always requires a stack of papers before ten everyday. Those papers are collected from different people everyday so go up to him and ask for the list. He'll give it to you. Since you don't know everybody yet, you can come to me and I'll help. The one sitting next to him is—Veneziano!"

"Hm? Sorry!" the inattentive Italian apologized, quickly swapping his attention from a woman toting an armload of files.

Ludwig sighed. "Never mind. I'll show you tomorrow. In the meantime, just sit with me and I'll find some work for you to do."

Veneziano nodded enthusiastically and followed him to his cubicle where he pulled up another chair.

For the next few hours, Ludwig gave Veneziano papers to staple and things to sort or alphabetize. There wasn't much of that, however, so the brunette spent most of his time in idleness, humming to himself or turning to watch the various people move around in fascination.

Ludwig was relieved that Veneziano isn't interrupting him with his work. With the way he acts, Ludwig expected his work to be interfered every five minutes but amazingly, Veneziano has kept out of his way respectfully, only fidgeting with some supplies and humming quietly on some intervals.

Finally, lunchtime rolled around and the whole office sighed with relief as people started getting up to eat.

Ludwig sat back on his chair and reviewed his progress. When he was satisfied, he turned to Veneziano to ask him what he wanted for lunch only to find that he wasn't there. It seems he had disappeared sometime while Ludwig was absorbed deeply in work.

Wondering where Veneziano could have gone and hoping he wasn't wrecking havoc, he got up to go search for him.

He made a round through the cubicles, looked into the break room, and checked the supply room but the brunette was nowhere to be seen.

Giving up and deciding to let Veneziano have at least forty-five minutes of free time for himself after sitting patiently around all morning, Ludwig started off back to his cubicle where he expected a paper bag with his usual lunch that Toris bought for him.

Back at his workstation, however, Ludwig was surprised to find that not only did Veneziano come back from wherever he wandered off but he had apparently also dragged Kiku back with him.

Although Kiku and he worked together a few times, Ludwig didn't know him on a personal level. He was more like a business colleague than a friend but the German knew enough about Kiku to know that he would sometimes just go with the flow, evident during meetings and the times they worked together when he seems to agree with everything. Ludwig guessed that while Kiku was serious, he was also a quiet man, someone fairly new to the company who doesn't want trouble so he wanted to make sure he didn't raise any hostility towards him. This characteristic might be the reason why Kiku was currently sitting in another seat, eating his homemade lunch while nodding occasionally to Veneziano's cheerful talk.

When the duo noticed Ludwig, he gave a little nod to Kiku, who dipped his head a little in return, and turned to Veneziano who seemed much more excited about the third person about to join them for lunch.

"Hi Ludwig! Look! I brought Honda to eat with us because he was eating all by himself so I thought maybe we would enjoy lunch together!"

Ludwig had introduced the two briefly during their tour yesterday but he didn't expect Veneziano would approach the stoic-looking Japanese and invite him to eat lunch with him after such a short time. He sure was an overly friendly guy.

"I'm sorry if he's bothered you during your lunchtime," Ludwig apologized, turning to Kiku.

"It's no problem," Kiku said in his usual calm voice, his face betraying nothing of his emotions, whether he was annoyed or bored.

"Toris already brought you your lunch!" Veneziano said, pointing to the lone paper bag sitting at his desk.

Muttering a quick thanks, Ludwig sat down on his seat and took out his lunch and started eating while Veneziano continued where he left off in his conversation before the arrival of the third person.

"So in the end he's a really funny guy! Do you have any siblings?"

Kiku just quietly nodded.

"I see. It can get tough sometimes but I guess it's okay because it's great to know they'll always be there. Just like a friend I had back then! He can be scary sometimes but he's actually very nice. Actually, he looks a lot like you Ludwig!"

Ludwig looked up from a piece of paper he was reading when he heard his name included in the conversation.

"Yeah! He looks a lot, lot like you Ludwig. But he isn't nearly as serious as you! Do either of you have childhood friends?" Veneziano asked, addressing both parties.

"Not really," Ludwig said shortly.

He didn't like prompts about his childhood. Especially ones asked by strangers.

"No… I was usually alone."

Veneziano seemed downcast that neither of his new friends really had any friends themselves but then he quickly reverted back to his original state and smiled at them.

"Well I'll be your friend! From now on, we're all friends," he proclaimed.

There wasn't much of an acknowledgement at that claim. Kiku only gave a quiet okay and Ludwig just nodded absentmindedly. Veneziano, however, didn't seem to mind or notice the lack of enthusiasm of the affirmations.

Forty-five minutes passed with idle talk from Veneziano, sometimes stopping to ask questions about themselves, which were replied with short answers. He, however, didn't push for elaborations. When he asked about the siblings, for example, he didn't ask how many there were, if they were brothers or sisters, if they were younger or older, and didn't ask names.

Ludwig supposed he appreciated Veneziano for his sense of privacy and how far he could push for answers about personal issues but the same couldn't be said for himself. He had a whole book about him after all no matter how small it was.

Lunchtime ended with Kiku cleaning out the last of his food, standing up, and biding a small farewell then going back to his own work area to put away his bentou and proceed to the meeting room.

It was Friday, which meant a meeting after lunch.

Meeting day was the one time of the week where people can come in, give ideas to better the company, voice out complaints about something or any other things the people wanted to discuss.

The meetings can be attended by anyone and from anywhere in the company so while the profit branch hosts these gatherings, people from the design and manufacture branch can participate as long as they are from the building.

The room where the meeting takes place is rather spacious, with large windows overlooking the vast swathe of city life, the view uninterrupted by other towering corporate buildings. A large round, wooden table dominates the room, allowing at least twenty seats along its circumference.

Although the meeting was open to anyone, from the janitor to the boss, not everyone attends, as it isn't mandatory anyway. Some people were simply too busy while others didn't want to walk in the same room with Vash, Ludwig, Gilbert _and_ Alfred. That dangerous combination can give a good scare to the average person.

Still, a good number of people were willing to come and sit through the whole three hours that the meeting takes up, enduring the antics of fellow co-workers. Due to said antics however, sometimes nothing gets done and the day ends with good or bad humor depending on the people.

For Ludwig, it's a headache and he'd rather not attend but there are only two people to keep it in check. If one were gone, the whole foundation would collapse.

So, cleaning up and steeling himself for the awaiting disaster, he proceeded into the meeting room, bringing along Veneziano.

Vash and Kiku were already there as per usual. Ludwig seated himself and the Italian did the same, seemingly ecstatic by the event. Soon, people started filing in. First came Wang followed by Tino Väinämöinenfrom the design branch, Berwald Oxenstierna from the manufacture branch, Francis Bonnefoy, Feliks Łukasiewicz also from the design branch, Eduard Von Bock, Sadiq Annan, Heracles Karpusi, Gupta Muhammad Hassan, and Matthew Williams, Alfred's younger brother. Finally, strolling in came Gilbert and Alfred, trailed by Toris carrying another stack of papers to distribute.

"Hey everyone! I have some great ideas so I want you to pay attention!" was the greeting by Alfred that announced the beginning of the tedious meeting.

Toris passed the papers around to the weary employees, who gazed at the cover page with skeptical eyes already, before sitting down himself.

"Now I think what's most important for a company are the customers therefore, I've thought of some ways to help attract more. First, I think we should—"

"No."

"But—"

"Are you dumb? How can a frickin' giant robot help attract customers? They'll probably think we're trying to take over the world or something."

"Giant robots are always awesome! And when people see the mightiness of the robot made by our company, they'll want to buy our laptops because they're also made from the same company."

"I think someone is a little late on paying you your reality check."

"I… I think… I think I agree with Alfred-san."

A few sighs.

"You don't have to agree with everything you know. You can disagree too."

"Robots are awesome!"

"Yeah but they cost a lot not to mention freaky."

"Well… Maybe we can make a walking laptop?"

A snort.

"Yeah okay. I want a walking laptop so it can jump off my table and start running away from me and hey, while we're at it, let's make it do the jig!"

"You don't have to be so sarcastic about it."

Veneziano watched the discussion with a childish delight. This seemed like so much fun! To gather in one place and talk seemed like such an enjoyable thing to do and he liked how everyone joined in. He wanted to be part of this too.

When the bickering got a little louder, Ludwig cleared his throat. All attention didn't immediately turn to him so instead he said, "Alright enough. Alfred, I don't think giant robots are a good idea so if you don't have anymore, would someone else like to contribute or say something?"

Veneziano raised his hand eagerly.

Ludwig sighed, dreading what he had to say but nevertheless addressed the brunette next to him.

"Yes Veneziano?"

Without missing a beat, Veneziano said brightly, "I think we should have more pasta for lunch!"

He knew it was going to be something as irrelevant as that. Ludwig wondered if Veneziano could possibly ever take anything seriously.

After a brief pause, Gilbert spoke up.

"Oh well actually that reminds me. Where the hell are the refrigerators in the damn break rooms? I mean sure we have take-out and shit but frankly, I'm getting tired of it and I want to leave some food for lunch the next day but guess what? Number one I forgot and number two, there's no refrigerators to stick it in anyway!"

Kiku nodded silently in agreement while the rest gave murmurs of agreement.

Ludwig wondered in bewilderment how the subject of pasta could turn into refrigerators but then again, this kind of thing is normal.

Wang stood up, signaling he is about to talk.

"Well, we can have refrigerators aru but—"

"Oh! Are they going to have those ice cube making thingies?" Veneziano interrupted.

"Well, if—"

"What about a stove? Then we can make pasta!"

"Veneziano, let Wang finish," Ludwig said, exasperated. He felt like some kind of babysitter.

"Actually I've been wondering about the refrigerators for a long time," Francis said, speaking up. "But I thought the company was too cheap to buy them."

"That's not it aru! Just that we didn't think there was a need to buy them! No one was complaining about them aru!" Wang retaliated.

"I thought like refrigerators were like mandatory for every office," Feliks added.

Meanwhile, the clinking of gears could be heard inside Alfred's head until they finally cranked enough electricity to light up the Idea Bulb.

He looked about to shout his newborn idea but sadly, Vash seemed to have shot it out of the sky. Literally. The window will need to get replaced for that nice bullet hole in the glass. Again. The bang that followed the deadly projectile blasted the idea from above Alfred's head, causing him to give an indignant shout.

"Alright everyone shut the hell up," Vash stated. His wishes were immediately complied as everyone closed their mouths.

"This is fun!" Veneziano said to Ludwig, who gave an incredulous look in return. This chaos is fun? He's lucky enough if he can get away with two headaches during the entire thing.

"Hey Ludwig. Why don't you suggest something too?" Veneziano continued.

"I don't have any ideas right now," Ludwig replied.

The meeting room was growing steadily louder again. Feliks is talking animatedly with his long time friend, Toris, who, while listening, glanced around nervously. Gilbert, Alfred, and Francis were arguing about something, occasionally turning towards the nervous and overlooked Matthew. Tino was chatting with Eduard and Vash while Berwald kept careful watch over the bright Finnish man. Heracles was quietly talking with Kiku, probably about cats and very pointedly ignoring Sadiq while he harassed poor Gupta and trying the egg the Greek on.

In fact, the conference room was looking more and more like a cafeteria than a place where grown ups sat down to talk about the future of a very large and successful company.

Veneziano tilted his head, still looking at Ludwig who sighed and asked, "What is it?"

"Aren't you going to join in with the others?"

"Join in?" Ludwig inquired.

"It seems as though everyone is talking with everyone except you Ludwig. Why aren't you with them?" Veneziano said, gesturing towards the groups of people in the room.

"Because there's nothing to talk about."

He wished that Veneziano would stop asking him questions like these because they were annoying.

But he knew what the truth of the matter is but he didn't want dwell on it. He just wanted this meeting to get back on track. Back to a subject he was familiar with.

He didn't even manage to utter a word before Veneziano jumped up from his seat and exclaimed, "I know! Why don't we have a game?"

The loud voice got everyone's attention from their conversations and they looked curiously at the person now seeming to lead the meeting. Ludwig had to admit, his curiosity was piqued too.

"Yeah a game!" Veneziano repeated excitedly. "A game the whole company can take part of! That way, Ludwig will have some fun!"

Ludwig wanted to bury his face in his hands. Why was he suggesting such an outlandish—

"I think that's a great idea!" Gilbert burst. "Anything to keep him from being a stick in the mud."

Ludwig massaged his temple with his fingers.

Never in all his years since employment had a company game ever taken place. The most there was were parties, which happened around Christmas and New Years. He didn't think this would go through.

"Actually that does sound good aru."

Why is it that the opposite is happening to whatever he was thinking?

"Hey! I was going to suggest that!" Alfred said, twisting his face but then put up a wide grin. "I'm going to arrange the games and events because I'm hero and I should handle the important stuff!"

"That's a good idea Veneziano," Tino said. "A break once in a while isn't bad."

The static of excitement sparked through everyone as they started an even more lively chatter than before.

Veneziano sat back down, absolutely beaming while talking with some of the people around.

Ludwig sat off beside him, weary and yearning to go back home.

* * *

**Author's rambling section:** I dunno 'bout you but this chapter seems a bit boring but I'm just trying to convey some points about Ludwig's social life and to elaborate a bit about him. I'm going to (hopefully) gradually reveal the characters'... um... character.


	6. Honda Kiku

**A/N:** Okay so, I have a very legitmate excuse for my absence this time so please don't pelt me with tomatoes because first of all, I have an excuse and second of all I'll tattle to Romano that you guys stole his tomatoes. I'm sure you don't wanna hear my excuse though so I'll just leave it in the ARS if you're curious.

**_

* * *

_**

**_Chapter 6:_** Honda Kiku

* * *

Saturday was perhaps the only day of the week when Ludwig allowed himself to sleep in for, at most, two hours. He didn't want to mess up his sleeping times and end up sleep deprived on the day he got back to work.

This particular morning felt a bit different, however, and deep in his hazy mind, Ludwig wondered why. He drifted back and forth between the world of dreams and reality until they both blurred into one big mass of something of disbelief and astonishment.

Finally, Ludwig opened his eyes in a semi-awake state.

Something is definitely different but what?

His room looked exactly the same as it did last night and the day before and the week before. Sunlight illuminated his bedroom like it usually did. His pillow and bed felt the same. The only difference there could be is that the clock beside his bed read eight-thirty.

But it did feel a little warmer under the covers. Maybe it was because of the sun.

Ludwig sat up for a few seconds to clear his head and adjust to the light. A full ten seconds passed before he felt something move beside him.

Alert and awake because of the motion, he quickly snapped his head to the left where the blankets were shifting around.

There, peaking out of the edges of the snowy white blankets shining yellow from the light was a halo of golden light brown hair.

Ludwig wasted no time and sprang out of bed, sputtering with shock.

What the _hell_?

The brunette moved a bit from Ludwig's sudden movement and a few seconds later, sat up, rubbing his sleepy milk chocolate eyes.

The blond felt like he was going to have a heart attack right on the spot when he saw that Veneziano was _shirtless_ or even _naked_ on top of sleeping _in his bed_.

"Good morning Ludwig," Veneziano murmured softly, his voice not having fully been awakened yet.

After some time, Ludwig managed to compose himself enough to sputter out, "Veneziano! W-what the _hell_ are you doing in my bed?" His face immediately tinged red at the implication of that sentence. Reality hit even harder home after asking, confirming that Veneziano was, indeed, in his bed. But his surprise exceeded his embarrassment so he continued to look incredulously at the Italian, waiting for an explanation.

Veneziano blinked a few times and looked at Ludwig with drowsy eyes, processing the words. He yawned and aimed a smile at the other man before answering.

"But I always sleep with my brother like this. It gets scary when it turns dark without someone with me."

Ludwig gaped at Veneziano for a few moments.

No wonder why his covers were thrown off on his left side! He thought he did it himself in his sleep, that it was a habit in the making! But no, Veneziano had been sneaking into his room since the first night! Ludwig has finally discovered the truth. And he did not like it one bit.

"Veneziano! I am not your brother! You don't just come in and—and sleep in other people's rooms! Now get out and get dressed!" he ordered, pointing at the door and turning even redder.

Veneziano seemed to wilt at the reprimand but obediently slid out of the bed.

Ludwig was relieved that the Italian was wearing red boxers. He didn't think he could live it down if Veneziano slept completely naked.

He waited until the door closed with a small click before sighing in relief and running a hand through his hair.

He couldn't believe that Veneziano decided to—to sleep with a person he's met for only about a week as though it's the most normal thing in the world! What is that boy thinking? Did he not know how strange it is to so casually do what he did?

Deciding not to think about this any further, or for the rest of his life for that matter, he continued on to brush his teeth and shower to take his mind off of the shocking morning.

When he was done with his daily morning ritual, he went down to the kitchen where Veneziano stood over the stove as he usually did. Not a word was spoken and Ludwig wondered if the Italian was mad at him.

The ticking of the kitchen clock seemed to echo and Ludwig started feeling uncomfortable. This silence was getting awkward. Or at least, it was for him. He had no clue how to react after finding out Veneziano had been sneaking into his bed every night and he didn't know what to say even if the other had decided to strike up a conversation.

Veneziano, in the meantime, had finished making breakfast and slid a plate of sausage and eggs as well as a mug of coffee in front of Ludwig before seating himself in the chair facing opposite.

Another few minutes passed in silence during which Ludwig tried to concentrate on his food rather than this morning's events before Veneziano spoke up in a small voice.

"Ludwig…"

Ludwig swallowed down some eggs as well as his awkwardness at the impending conversation before answering with a "Yes?"

Veneziano seemed to hesitate for a moment, seemingly worried about something before he continued.

"I-I'm sorry that I snuck into your bed… I didn't mean to make you angry…"

His eyes were downcast at the table, looking like a guilty child that got caught doing something wrong by his mother, fearful of the consequences.

Ludwig regarded Veneziano, who still refused to meet his gaze. He had an anxious expression on his face and he couldn't seem to stop fiddling with his fork. Ludwig wasn't sure if Veneziano had really meant to do what he did but that expression was enough to warrant pity.

"I'm not angry," he finally said. There was a relieved cry from Veneziano who looked as though the world's burden suddenly disappeared into thin air.

"Really?"

Ludwig just nodded as Veneziano went on.

"I'm so glad! I was so worried that Ludwig was mad at me because you looked so angry and I was afraid that you hate me! I'm so happy you aren't!"

"I don't hate you Veneziano," he muttered.

Sure the things the guy did were weird and his thinking seemed to be off but as long as he hadn't murdered anyone or stole, Ludwig didn't see anything in Veneziano that could make him hate him. He would feel frustrated with him sure but not hate.

The answer seemed to placate Veneziano and he cheerfully went back to his breakfast.

Speaking of Veneziano, isn't today the day when Veneziano would be moving out?

Ludwig glanced over at the brunette sitting across from him, munching away on eggs.

He was glad today was going to be the day where Veneziano would leave. He could have his normal life back again and things would go back to how they used to be. Well, almost. He's still going to see Veneziano at the office. There was no avoiding that but at least he would have normalcy in his own house.

But then again… Veneziano had no place to stay if he was to be kicked out and Ludwig wasn't so immoral as to run someone out when they clearly have nowhere to stay. Maybe he could go stay somewhere else. Ludwig would help Veneziano find that somewhere. Deep in Ludwig's mind, however, he knew it wouldn't be that easy. He knew the kid would fully object. He would insist on staying with Ludwig and refuse to be pushed onto anyone else.

Ludwig guessed he's really going to have to take in Veneziano until he earns enough money to buy at least an apartment but still… he didn't believe the Italian had absolutely no money at all. There's just no possible way. How'd he get by before he'd met him?

His thoughts were interrupted when Gilbert entered and plopped down on a seat facing the doorway.

"Good morning Gilbert!" Veneziano greeted as he got up to get Gilbert's share of food.

Gilbert mumbled some semblance of good morning back as he stared dazedly at the white kitchen table in front of him.

"You're up early. Need to go somewhere?" Ludwig questioned as he drank from his coffee mug.

"Yeah," Gilbert said in his scratchy morning voice then thanked Veneziano as he put a plate of breakfast in front of him. "You're going to do buy groceries today right?"

"Yeah."

Veneziano quickly turned to Ludwig with eyes, looking excited. "Oh! You're going to go buy food? Can I come? Please?"

Ludwig was slightly unnerved by how enthusiastic Veneziano suddenly became at the mention of food shopping. He could take the Italian along but considering the damage he did to the office and the way he behaves, he wasn't sure he really wanted to take him along.

"Pleeease? Please can I come? I promise I won't do anything! I'll help out!" Veneziano whined pleadingly.

Argh… Ludwig supposed it wouldn't hurt. And even if he refused, the brunette will just keep begging until he caved anyhow.

"Yay! When are we going to leave?" he asked eagerly.

"After breakfast. The markets should be fairly empty so we should go while there's no large crowd."

Veneziano nodded and hurried to finish the rest of the food in his plate while Ludwig continued at a more leisurely pace.

~*~

As predicted by Ludwig, there weren't much people around in their daily shopping, leaving a lot of free space and a mellow noise to blanket over the morning crowd.

"Okay Veneziano. I made a list of what we need to buy. We also have a budget so we have to make sure not to—" Ludwig started explaining but stopped when he saw that Veneziano wasn't listening to him. In fact, he was already about twenty feet away, eyeing some cheese displayed in a deli.

He sighed in exasperation and called out to the wayward Italian. "Veneziano!"

"Oh sorry Ludwig," he said apologetically. Ludwig had no doubt that he would do that again sometime.

"Okay Veneziano," Ludwig said as Veneziano approached him. "I have a list of things we need to buy and we also have a budget so we can't spend too much."

"Okay!"

Ludwig didn't think he liked the way he said that 'okay' because it sounded like he was in la la land again when he said that. He could guarantee that the rest of the day would be a pain.

~*~

A few hours later and Ludwig managed to confirm his theory.

So far, they have bought _nothing_ from their list. They started at around nine but it's one-thirty now.

Ludwig hoped to drown some of his misery during lunch.

Veneziano had insisted on buying something and eating it at the park and thus they bought sandwiches for lunch.

Throughout the day so far, Veneziano had done nothing in his promise to not cause trouble and heed Ludwig's words.

First, they went to a supermarket.

Ludwig asked Veneziano to go buy some of the things on the list and if he forgot any, to come back to him. He had agreed.

But apparently, while Ludwig had been looking through the store for his portion of items on the list, Veneziano was wandering aimlessly through the aisles, completely forgetting about anything remotely related to a list.

When Ludwig was walking by one of the aisles, Veneziano had struck a conversation with a worker while carrying a bunch of things Ludwig knew he didn't ask for.

The Italian didn't notice him because his back was turned but then he seemed to notice someone behind the worker he was talking to. He quickly said good-bye and turned around, beaming when he spotted Ludwig.

Ludwig didn't know what was going on and what Veneziano's relationship with that man was but before he knew it, he had purchased the items that the brunette had been holding and they both quickly left. No doubt Veneziano had been in trouble and after he sheepishly confessed that he had accidentally knocked over a stack of crates containing tomatoes onto the store manager, Ludwig knew it was likely they weren't welcome back into the store anytime soon.

Next they wandered through the streets searching for shops for miscellaneous things they needed. Since they already bought the food and since they can't exactly return them, Ludwig supposed that whatever Veneziano bought will have to do.

This time, Ludwig made sure not to let the brunette out of his sight, not that it really did anything.

He had spent most of his time looking for and chasing after Veneziano than looking for the items he actually needed and in the end, nothing was bought because the Italian seemed to have a tendency to wander out of a store and into another one that interests him.

Now, Ludwig was standing in the park, frustrated and looking for the brat who had ruined his day (and life). He had ran off after spotting something, not giving enough time to follow so now, Ludwig was standing there, hoping that Veneziano would not get lost in the park and would remember that someone was waiting for him. It didn't help that he was the one who carried the brown paper bag with their lunch so Ludwig can't even eat while waiting for his return.

After waiting for ten more minutes, the unmistakable form of Veneziano finally appeared down the path. There was no mistaken his permanent spacey look and his frantically waving hand with the paper bag. And he wasn't alone, it seems.

He was tugging someone along behind him and as he got closer, Ludwig could finally see who it was.

Poor Kiku was probably walking around, minding his own business when the Italian suddenly popped up out of thin air, started chatting, and finally decided it was a good idea to drag him along with him, mindless of Kiku's plans for the day.

"Hey Ludwig! Look look! It's Kiku! He was walking around so I went to talk to him!" Veneziano said energetically.

"Veneziano," Ludwig said slowly as though the other won't understand if he didn't do so, "did it ever occur to you that Kiku might have things to do?"

"Well…"

The guilty look said it all. But Kiku came to his defense by shaking his head, giving a small smile and saying, "It's fine. I wasn't doing much. I just wanted to take a walk is all."

Veneziano brightened.

"Can Kiku come with us? Please?" he begged.

"Veneziano…." Ludwig sighed. Veneziano seemed to think Kiku was a puppy or something.

"I… wouldn't mind if I joined… if you want me to."

"See? He doesn't mind! I want Kiku to come with us! He looked lonely." Veneziano said a pleading voice.

Ludwig stared at Veneziano.

This guy doesn't seem to know any social rules because he broke them all within two weeks. But now that he dragged Kiku all the way here, it was kind of embarrassing to say no. It was like saying to a kid he can't bring his friend to his house. And both weren't exactly kids though Veneziano's thinking left room for questioning.

"Yes fine. Kiku may come with us if you promise to let me get everything I need on this list!" Ludwig said, giving in. Maybe if the Japanese man went along with them, Veneziano wouldn't be such a bother because he had someone else to occupy his time with.

Veneziano nodded eagerly but then seemed distracted by something to his right.

Ludwig looked at the direction he was staring at.

An ice-cream cart.

"Go ahead Veneziano," Ludwig said to Veneziano's unasked question.

The brunette cried in glee and handed Ludwig the bag. Before leaving, however, he turned to Kiku to ask if he wanted any. When he got a no, he hurried to get in line for ice-cream.

Ludwig gestured to a nearby park bench to sit in while they waited for Veneziano to get his ice-cream.

There was silence while they sat.

Ludwig sat in the quiet, not knowing what to talk to Kiku about nor really wanting to.

The park was slowly budding with the colors of autumn. The vibrant green leaves that shone gold so brightly that they could blind was slowly aging into quiet reds, yellows, oranges, and browns. The trees with the mixture of autumn and summer made them look like they were on fire, the colors clashing with a look of a calm flame. The sigh of the wistful wind that rustled the branches moved and fanned the flames so that it looked as though time had decided to slow down the rage of the unruly flames. It was starting to get cool and before long, the winter weather would come upon them before winter really arrived.

The scenery was peaceful, even with all the people in the park and Ludwig relaxed in the early fall's secret lull.

"I'm sorry for intruding on you like this."

The quiet voice managed to divert Ludwig's gaze of the trees to the quiet Kiku.

"No it's okay. Truthfully I'm glad you came alone. Veneziano had been bothering me all day so I couldn't get a single thing done. I should be the one thanking you actually because maybe now I can concentrate at the task in hand," Ludwig replied, eyes drifting to Veneziano. He was still a fair way away from the front.

There was a brief pause before Kiku asked, "So how did you get to know Veneziano-kun?"

"He… just arrived at my doorstep one day," Ludwig said. He would rather leave out the part where the Italian waited in front of his house for a week. No one else needs to know about Veneziano's weird… tendencies. "He lives with me now."

"Ah I see…" Kiku murmured seemingly more to himself. "And what do you think about Veneziano?"

"Veneziano is a very… unique person. He's always happy and… I guess that's it," Ludwig said slowly, shrugging.

Kiku nodded slowly.

"Do you think he's annoying?"

"Why do you ask?"

Kiku slumped a little in his seat until he could rest his head on the bench so that he was gazing at the combusting branches of the trees above his head.

"Ah well… I guess I'm being rude. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Ludwig shook his head despite the fact that Kiku can't see the gesture.

"No. I just want to know what makes you ask," he said.

"Well," Kiku started, keeping his eyes upward, "just the way you talk about him tells me you're annoyed with him. You express relief when I agreed to join and furthermore, you said that Veneziano-kun arrived with no announcement of his coming and just started living in your house."

"I see…"

Was it that obvious? It's not that he didn't like Veneziano. He was a good person but it's just that he tends to be more of a burden than Ludwig would have liked. He doesn't know the basic rules of society for one. You don't just drag people to accompany you without consent and you _definitely_ do _not_ sneak into other people's beds with said person. Second of all, common sense doesn't seem to take root at all in Veneziano's mind. Obviously you don't fill a water cooler with chocolate milk and you obviously do _not_ dump water on office machinery just because it feels a little hot. Third of all, if you looked at all the things that compiled this list, you would come to the conclusion that Veneziano wasn't in his right mind and his 'guardian angel' thought stream confirmed it.

But here's the thing: Veneziano seemed to be perfectly sane. He didn't rob the house, he didn't brutally murder Ludwig in his sleep, he didn't suddenly snap. He was in his right mind. This annoyed Ludwig even more than if Veneziano really had a mental condition because this means that the Veneziano was doing this on _purpose_. If he was in his right mind, he would know exactly what he was doing would make any person furious.

Ludwig hated nonsense people and the likes of Veneziano were on first place in his list of people he absolutely abhorred.

"But I think Veneziano-kun is actually a very good person," Kiku said, snapping Ludwig from his thoughts.

"Yes I think he is too," the blonde agreed, seeing that Veneziano was almost at the front of the line.

Kiku shook his head, eyes following a single yellow leaf as it rode on the gentle wind, flying off to anywhere it pleased.

"No Weillschmidt-san I do not think so, if you don't mind me conflicting against your own thoughts and feelings. I know you are a straightforward man who knows what you think of a person and I know it is fairly rude of me to say otherwise but if you don't mind me saying, you can't think he's a good person and at the same time think of him as an annoyance."

Ludwig frowned slightly at Kiku's statement. Of course someone could think of someone as a good but annoying person.

"I think Weillschmidt-san's annoyance isn't simply the fact that Veneziano-kun keeps making mistakes. The way you describe him states that you think he is a liability in the way you describe him in hidden negativity, a major hindrance to your life and I may be reading too much into this but you may think there's something wrong with Veneziano-kun. You are a very organized man so I'd think that Veneziano-kun's sudden intrusion disrupted your normalcy. Therefore, since he made such a negative impact in your life, there is no way that you can think of him as a good person also."

Ludwig sighed.

What Kiku described was only half right. He did like his normal life until Veneziano dropped by and okay, he admits that he is annoyed at him for other things besides mistakes but although Ludwig's life was disrupted, it did not mean he thought Veneziano was a bad or horrible guy. Sure his life was impacted but it did not warrant enough to hate the Italian.

"You do not have to take offense to this and I, in turn, do not mean to offend you if I'm wrong," Kiku continued. "However, I think you need to stop thinking too much and get to know Veneziano-kun as who he is. It would do you good to be a little more honest to yourself and to Veneziano-kun."

Ludwig was about to respond about being more honest to himself when Veneziano came approaching with his ice-cream cone in hand.

"Sorry for the wait!" Veneziano apologized. He sat down in the space next to Ludwig on the bench and looked over at Ludwig.

"Eh? Ludwig you didn't start on your lunch! Is there something wrong?" he asked worriedly, catching sight of the paper bag still held in Ludwig's hand.

The German shook his head and took out the sandwich and started eating.

Be more honest to himself. He was already honest to himself. He thought Veneziano was a person who liked to get satisfaction out of the angering and annoying random people but not meaning any real harm.

How could Ludwig be more honest to himself if he was one of the most straightforward and down-to-earth people he ever knew?

* * *

**Author's rambling section**: Okay, so you're probably wondering, "Where the heck were you?!?! I've been waiting practically all _month_!!!" Well first, I apologize for the inconvenience. I was actually halfway done almost a week after last update BUT here's the thing:

I found this sheet right? And it was given to me before school was closed for summer vacay and I kinda left it sitting on the desk but y'know, I have a messy desk and it was buried underneath some papers so imagine that after cleaning off my desk a little, I come face to face with this piece of paper.

Guess what it was? It was my summer vacation assignment.

Needless to say, I was _not _a happy camper so the last few weeks were sent scrambling around trying to do at least half my assignment. I didn't even read any reviews O.O but now that things have calmed down for me a bit, I'm now able to finish.

The end!

What? You don't believe me? B-but it's true! And... Oh never mind. I'll just go in a corner and sulk about my stupid homework.

Til next time!


	7. Simultaneous Meetings

**A/N**: Ta-da! I updated this chapter early as a sorta sorry gift for my last late update. And beware of a very rambling ARS at the end! You have been warned!

* * *

**_Chapter 7:_** Simultaneous Meetings

* * *

It has been a long time since he last came now. It's been what? Two years? Three years? Well, around two to four since he had last visited.

He has moved to a new house, which was unsurprising given his character. Seems as though he was the only one living in that house though.

The house could pass for reasonably well-kept but just barely, given all that junk on the walls and floor, getting worse in the bedroom if that was possible. But he supposed it was in his nature to be unkempt.

The occupant didn't seem to be home at the moment but he guessed that didn't matter. Maybe it was better no one was home, not that he didn't want to see him but it'll probably unearth a bittersweet taste he just managed to get over.

A glimpse wouldn't hurt though, to see how he had grown up. Not that he thought there would be any changes since he last saw him but it'd be good to see how he's doing, if he's in good health. But he digresses.

He was not here to check up on old company. He was here for another reason entirely.

So, taking a last glance at the empty house, he continued on his way to his intended destination before he decided to take a minor detour.

~*~

Sundays were days when Gilbert would go out to do god knows what and when Ludwig would start doing whatever needed to get done around the house, leaving behind the things that were Gilbert's responsibility and sticking up post-its on the banister threatening the death of his X-box or even worse, threaten to give away everything in his room to _charity_ if he didn't do his chores.

But this time was a little different.

While Ludwig and Veneziano were sitting in the living room, Gilbert waltzed in with a piece of toast in one hand and announced that he was going out.

Nothing unusual about that so Ludwig nodded absentmindedly at that.

"Oh and I'm taking Veneziano with me."

That was different.

Ludwig looked up from his newspaper and gave Gilbert a questioning gaze.

"Well why not?" Gilbert said, shrugging. "I mean since he's going to be living with us from now on, might as well get to know him better."

Ludwig was suspicious.

"What? You don't trust me?" sputtered Gilbert. "Not even your own big brother? You break my heart." He did an overdramatic display of clutching his heart.

Ludwig rolled his eyes. No really. What's the real purpose behind this?

"Nothing! Geez," Gilbert insisted, huffing and crossing his arms, red eyes looking impatient. "I just want to take Veneziano around town and meet some of my buds. Not too much to ask for is it?"

Ludwig supposed not. But if he caught him doing any funny business…

"Yeah yeah. No X-box, Wii, Play Station one, two, and three, Gamecube, iPod, Nintendo DS, Game Boy, Game Boy Advance or Nintendo 64 for a week," Gilbert recited in monotone. A very well rehearsed and acquainted line. The threat was getting old but it was still wonderfully effective, much to Gilbert's annoyance who tried to kick the drug known as 'gaming' out of his system.

After a few seconds of hesitation, Ludwig folded and resignedly allowed Veneziano to go with Gilbert, already wary of consequences.

"You worry too much," Gilbert said, responding to Ludwig's distrusting look. "Don't worry. I won't allow Veneziano to get kidnapped or anything."

Now that Gilbert mentions it… maybe it isn't such a great idea…

"Okay we're off!" Gilbert announced loudly, walking to the front door before Ludwig could say anything else. Veneziano gave a cheery good-bye before following the elder brother outside.

Ludwig really hoped Gilbert knew what he was getting himself into. With him watching Veneziano coupled with the Italian's tendency to disappear, there is absolutely no way Gilbert isn't going to lose him.

Ludwig made sure his cell phone was right beside him.

~*~

The city was teeming with hundreds of people enjoying their lovely Sunday. Sounds and noises buzzed loudly through the busy streets until it reached a single, dull note of slightly lilting loud and quiet.

Gilbert stood proudly right in the middle of the sidewalk, causing people to throw irritated glances aimed at his direction or mumbling about how idiots should be a little more considerate.

"Well Veneziano here we are!" Gilbert said with much flourish.

"Gilbert, where are we going?" Veneziano asked curiously, looking around the unfamiliar place.

"You'll see," he replied. "But it's good. We're going to go meet two of my friends. Don't worry they're cool. I've known them since high school."

He walked a few steps ahead before suddenly remembering something. He turned around once again to meet Veneziano, much to the ire of the disgruntled pedestrians behind them.

"Oh and by the way. I got to warn you about something before we get there. One of my friends is a bit weird so just bear with him, okay?"

Satisfied after receiving an excited nod from Veneziano, Gilbert swiveled around and once again continued on to his destination.

~*~

Sundays were slow days for Ludwig. He usually stayed home and did chores around the house and afterwards he would relax with a book.

This Sunday, it was Ludwig's turn to wash dishes and take out the garbage while Gilbert was supposed to be doing laundry.

After writing the weekly threat post-it, he went to the kitchen to start on dishes when the doorbell rang.

Diverting his attention from the waiting plates in the sink temporarily, Ludwig went to answer the door. Maybe Gilbert forgot his keys.

Upon opening the door, however, was not Gilbert.

The man who stood at the doorstep had an air of dignity about him, his straight posture adding to the feel. His eyebrows seem a bit thicker than normal but his piercing verdant green eyes seemed to overshadow that fact pretty quickly. He had wheat colored hair in a tasteful style that wasn't too unruly and a neutral expression though it wasn't averse to looking a little pleasant as not to appear completely unfriendly. He was dressed in a smart, crisp white-collared shirt with a brown blazer over it, both of which was wrinkle and stain-free. Tan dress trousers covered his legs and black loafers completed his look. The entire outfit affixed an aura of refinery and business-like atmosphere about him even if it wasn't a suit.

"Hello my name is Arthur Kirkland," he introduced in a Cockney accent, giving a small, friendly smile and holding up a hand to shake. "I would like to talk to Veneziano Vargas?"

"Nice to meet you Mr. Kirkland," Ludwig responded in a professional manner, taking the hand and giving it a firm shake. "Veneziano isn't here at the moment. He went out. What business do you have with him?"

How did he know Veneziano was living here? He doesn't work in the office. Maybe he was a friend.

Arthur seemed a bit restless when Ludwig informed him Veneziano had gone out and he asked, "Did he go out alone?"

"No. He went with my elder brother to meet a couple of his friends," Ludwig replied, eyeing the man carefully.

Arthur seemed to ease up at that and he let out a quiet breath.

"I have some very urgent matter to talk to him about. It's rather important," he said with a small frown. He then looked at Ludwig closely. "May I ask who you are?"

"I am Ludwig Weillschmidt," Ludwig replied, curious as to why Arthur needed to know his name.

The other in turn nodded in approval.

"Yes I suppose I can talk to you about this matter," Arthur said thoughtfully. "Do you mind? It is also about Veneziano. Actually, I would rather that you both were here to hear what I have to say so I don't have to repeat myself but I suppose it can't be helped."

So this man knew something about Veneziano. Maybe Arthur could fill Ludwig in on why the heck Veneziano decided to randomly come to his house and start freeloading.

Ludwig nodded and said, "Of course," and let Arthur in, closing the door behind him and leading him to the kitchen.

"Would you like anything?" he asked as the Englishman sat down.

"Tea if you have any."

Ludwig nodded and started preparing the drink, putting the kettle of water on the stove, and then sitting down across from Arthur to wait for it to boil.

"So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"I am here to tell you," Arthur said with a grave face and heavy voice, his eyes dark with unease, "that both Veneziano's life and your life are in critical danger.

~*~

"Okay this is our meeting spot," Gilbert finally announced, stopping in front of a diner.

The white building looked like any typical diner. Large windows stretched from the door on the far left all the way around the corner and finally ending about five feet away from it. A neon sign above the window stated that the diner's name is The Dingy Diner. Upon entering the restaurant, however, was the complete opposite.

The floor was made up of large black squares of stone that glittered as patrons walked through. Dark blue booths lined up against the window facing their respective shiny, silver tables each having a small aquamarine hanging lamp over them. The trademark diner bar stretched across the place complete with lights beneath the small space of the counter. The barstools standing by the counter had a back and were the same color as the booths.

Gilbert scanned the almost empty establishment before spotting his friends. He gestured to Veneziano to follow him and he led him to the booth in the corner where two people sat in, a boy and a girl.

The girl had tan skin, warm, brown eyes, and a kind face. Her long, dark, brown hair was tied into two pigtails near her neck with large red ribbons and kept resting at her front. She was wearing a short-sleeved plain white dress with white sneakers and chatting with the boy next to her.

The boy was Asian with their typical characteristics, dark eyes and short, dark hair. One strand of hair, however, stood out oddly at the front, which, strangely, looped once then seemed to bend the opposite direction. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt that seemed too big on him because the sleeves hid his hands and the bottom hid half his thigh. His jeans were almost just as baggy but not quite as excessive as the shirt.

Upon Gilbert's approach, both grinned and greeted him.

"'Sup," Gilbert responded in kind. "This is Veneziano. Veneziano, this is Im Yong Soo. You could just call him Soo. He's my gaming buddy and Wang's kid brother. And the one next to him is Maria Chells." He pointed to each person as he introduced them then ushered Veneziano into the booth before sitting.

"Hello Veneziano! It's nice to meet you!" Maria said in delight.

"Hi!" Veneziano said in equal the enthusiasm.

"Okay let's get down to it. I know you guys know why you're here but I'll tell you again just to keep Veneziano up to date," Gilbert announced, indicating his two friends sitting across from him. "Today, we're going to let you, Veneziano, into our inner circle. Be proud because we don't let many people into our circle."

"Yep! We've been friends since high school and we're pretty close. Gilbert mentioned that he wants you to meet us for something involving his brother. He won't really tell us what," Maria said, glancing accusingly at Gilbert, who in turn waved her off lazily, "but we'll be glad to help you any way we can!"

"If you want something you can ask us! My country invented them all by the way!" Soo exclaimed rather loudly.

"But before that," Gilbert continued, "we need to test you."

Veneziano nodded eagerly.

"Good. We're going to give you two tests. It's not difficult. You just have to do exactly as we say for the first test, got it?"

"Okay!"

"You swear? You won't back down right?" Gilbert pressed, eyes gleaming.

Veneziano nodded once again to affirm he will do whatever the three people sitting at the table asks him to do.

"Okay then! You said it!" Gilbert said gleefully. "Your first test is to jump off a building blindfolded."

~*~

Ludwig looked calculatingly at his visitor across from him.

Despite the words' heavy implications, they don't seem to stick to him. If this man had been any less proper-looking or any less serious, Ludwig would have taken this guy as a joke. But no.

The man's expression spoke of the urgency of the matter and his eyes seem to plead to him to believe him.

"Can you elaborate?" Ludwig asked after a moment of silence.

Arthur nodded, looking a little relieved that he would at least listen to the story before making any further judgment.

"Well… Let's confirm something first," Arthur said, folding his hands in front of him. "You are aware that Veneziano Vargas is, indeed, an authentic guardian angel?"

Ludwig raised an eyebrow at the direction the conversation was taking.

"Yes he told me so before but I don't believe him," he confirmed. Was this guy as serious as he looked? Or was he just acting? He was a pretty damn good actor if that was the case.

"Well then let me affirm that Veneziano is a guardian angel. _Your_ guardian angel to be precise." Arthur looked at Ludwig's skeptical face and sighed.

"Seems like you still don't believe me," Arthur stated. "I know it is hard for someone like you to accept but this matter requires your absolute trust in me. At the very least, please just humor me."

Ludwig hesitated before deciding to hear him out.

"Okay then. Just listen to what I have to say until the end." Arthur looked down at the table to organize his thoughts carefully before finally beginning.

"Let's start off with what happens after a person dies," he finally began, affixing his gaze firmly at Ludwig. "After a person's physical body dies, his soul is immediately judged and depending on his deeds, goes to either Heaven or Hell for the rest of eternity. Good souls have the choice to either be reincarnated, become a resident of Heaven forever, or become angels. Those who want to become angels are first promoted to guardian angel. Their duty then is to grant happiness or guide mortals back to the right path. They must have a strong will to help others and diligence to persist through man's doubts so therefore their souls are pure. Souls of children who choose to become angels will experience physical growth as they gain more experience of the world while older souls do not. Their physical growth can also be said to represent their spiritual growth so children who become guardian angels are said to be more pure. Since they're only, so to speak, trainees, guardian angels can't perform magic until they become full-fledged angels."

The kettle whistled shrilly, interrupting Arthur's story and Ludwig excused himself to pour a cup of tea for both of them.

After setting the tea in front of himself and his guest, Ludwig sat back down and Arthur resumed his story.

"Well anyway," Arthur continued, "Now that I have talked about the basics on angels, let's move on to the evil souls. Evil souls are immediately sentenced to Hell and sent to different areas of Hell for different punishments according to their wrongdoings. However, if a soul's crime is heinous enough and certain conditions met, they are transformed into demons and spend all eternity alongside the Fallen Angels in torturing souls. There is no way a demon can escape the deep chasms of Hell except…"

Arthur took a sip of his tea to wet his throat before going on.

"When a mortal's deeds are so evil and so unforgiveable, their soul is sent to Hell before it is even their time. In other words, the soul is doomed to damnation early while their bodies are still wandering the world. These empty shells are then possessed by a demon but the fact is these bodies don't even know that their soul is damned so the demon is able to freely control them as their consciousness and reasoning. Now that I've said all this, I'm going to tell you exactly how this relates to that fact Veneziano and you are in such great danger.

"One of the demons who have escaped Hell with this method has yet to come back. Records indicate that the physical body should have died a few years ago but it seems it is still alive. Not long after that discovery something else came up. It seems souls of dead bodies have gone missing all around the world."

Here, Arthur took on a distressed look.

"Well, we fit two and two together and discovered it is likely that the demon who has escaped is responsible for this action. Upon further investigation, we discovered that the missing souls were all pure enough to be sent to Heaven. The more pure a soul is, the more energy they contain. Obviously, this demon is planning something. Something big if the number of missing souls can attest to. If this demon is going after pure souls, then Veneziano would be a perfect target to acquire. Not only has he been an angel since a child but he is also a guardian angel. He is ranked one of the purest angels there is while simultaneously unable to perform magic and therefore unable to defend. The demon will certainly use any trick he can think of to acquire him and that includes going through you, your family, and friends to get to him."

Arthur took another drink of the cooling tea.

"Now, the reason I'm here and why I know so much is because I'm his Overseer. The Overseer is a full-fledged angel whose duty is to look after their charge. I'm here to protect Veneziano, you, and anyone else I have to from the escaped demon while investigating this area. All Overseers are doing the same thing. You probably don't believe me and I honestly don't care but!"

Arthur hardened his expression, narrowed his eyes and hissed in a low, threatening tone, "I highly recommend you be careful. The whole angel and demon thing may be full of bull but the danger is very real. If I find out that the demon captured Veneziano because of your stupidity, I will not hesitate to send you to Hell myself. Understand?"

"Yes," Ludwig said solemnly.

Even if angels and demons may not exist, he is fully aware of the weight the words of warning were carrying.

"Good," Arthur said, nodding approvingly, seemingly satisfied. His appearance eased a bit after Ludwig's answer but still remained somber. "I must warn you though that this demon is especially crafty and powerful to be able to evade us for this long and not even give away his identity and location. I'm going to be staying close to keep a better watch and in the meantime, I would like to ask for your full cooperation."

"Of course. I'll try my best. In exchange, however, I would like to know a little more about Veneziano."

Arthur looked thoughtful, seemingly measuring the outcomes and possible consequences of freely giving away information on his charge.

Finally, "Alright. I'll tell you but I'm obligated not to answer some questions if I feel the need."

"Agreed."

~*~

A wind blew past Veneziano's brown tresses as he stood on what he presumed was the edge of the building. He was almost tempted into lifting the blindfold a bit to look at the view of the street but remembered what Gilbert said about never, in any circumstances, was he to take off that cloth that covered his eyes so he resisted the urge and waited.

"Ooooiiii! Veneziano! Can you hear me?"

Ah that was Gilbert's voice! It echoed a bit and sounded a bit far away so maybe he was standing with Maria and Soo at the bottom of the building.

"Yes!" Veneziano called back.

"Okay good! As long as you can hear us, you're fine. This is the first part of the test so get ready okay? When I say now, jump off!"

"Okay!"

"Ready? Aaaand… Now!"

Veneziano immediately jumped and he felt air. Wow it felt so nice! It was like he was flying! It's such a great sensation! The way the wind felt, the way his heart leaped as though it would break free any moment and fly out of his chest. Veneziano hoped to feel this wonderful exhilaration again.

He enjoyed it so much that he almost didn't hear when Maria shouted for him to lift up his arms and to grab.

Veneziano managed to snap out of his reverie and immediately obeyed. He felt the rough texture of brick.

"Let go of the ledge!" Soo called.

The Italian did so and he felt something solid under his feet.

"Jump!" Gilbert ordered.

Veneziano did so and he landed on another solid surface.

"Okay! You can take off your blindfold now!" Maria said happily.

The sight of the trio of friends immediately caught his sight after the piece of cloth was taken off as well as the blow-up mattress in front of them.

"That wasn't so bad right?" Maria asked, grinning.

"How'd I do?" Veneziano asked cheerfully.

"Perfect," Gilbert said, smirking. "It's a good thing you didn't chicken out on us halfway. I mean it's not like we'll really let them go splat on the concrete." He rolled his eyes at such a ridiculous notion.

"We had this mattress here all along just in case you fell, invented by Korea of course, the origin of mattresses," Soo supplied.

They were standing in a moderately clean side-street. There didn't seem to be many passersby on the main street and thus, no witness to the daring stunt Veneziano had pulled off. The shadows of the buildings threw the medium-sized lane into a half-darkness, hiding the four people from outside eyes if any happened to glance their way.

"Of course! I trust Gilbert!" Veneziano declared naively.

"Excellent. Then we'll start the second part of our test," Gilbert announced immediately.

* * *

**Author's rambling section: **No, Maria Chells is _not_ the official name for Seychelles. I made it up myself.

Well I first wanted to name her Chell (Lol Portal reference. Hm? You dunno what Portal is? You offend me! :O) but then I thought why not search for the most common name in Seychelles and have that as her name? So I searched and tied to first was Angelique and Veronique. But then I saw the name Maria on the list and I was caught between having her first name as Chell or Maria so I shrugged and said eh why not have Maria as the first name and Chell the last name? XD Well I dunno 'bout you but I thought Maria kind of fits her somehow. I suppose Angelique does too but… I guess it's too late to change it now.

I wrote that Im Yong Soo was Gilbert's gaming buddy. Well, I read his profile in the simple character intro on the Hetalia scanlation index thingy and it said he liked internet and games so heck why not?

And onto totally unrelated matters, man I can't believe how impatient you guys were for Arthur and now you finally have him. Cheers to Arthur for being so insanely popular!

*Shoves a gagged and bound Arthur at the fans*

Boy it took a long time to get Arthur's clothes because I had no idea what the names of the individual pieces of clothing were beyond 'suit' so I had to actually scrounge around for the names. Wow huh?

By the way, if you caught the references to The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri, I. Frickin'. Love. You. To those who haven't read his works or dunno who he is, The Divine Comedy is an epic poem about the author's journey through Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven in three separate books. The Inferno, depicting his journey through Hell, is his most famous. I love the symbolism of his work, complexity, and the imaginativeness of the tortures of souls of different sins. It's worth a peek or at least look at the symbolism involved.

Oh! And before I go, who the heck was able to predict the point I was aiming for in the middle of Arthur's explanation? No really I'm curious! Did you figure it out in the middle or had to read the whole explanation? And I don't need to warn you kiddies not to attempt the same stunt Veneziano did right? Good. Good good good.

Well thanks for reading this particularly rambling ARS. Hope to see you next time!


	8. Creeping Closer

**A/N:** I apologize to everyone. My absence is inexcusable even if school has started so I won't bother with an excuse this time around.

* * *

**_Chapter 8:_** Creeping Closer

* * *

The crowd of people on the street made the quartet of people standing off on the side insignificant like a rushing river next to a tiny droplet of water. It was so easy to fall in and drown in the rushing current of people busily passing by.

After leaving the shadows of the buildings, Soo had produced a small pad of paper and a pencil from one of his voluminous pockets and started writing. When he finished, he passed it on to Gilbert who also wrote something then passed it onto Maria who did the same.

They asked Veneziano to follow them to the main street where they are now currently standing on the pavement by a bakery to give instructions.

"Okay Veneziano. Before you start your next test, we want you to deliver this note," Gilbert said, handing the folded small piece of paper over. "It's _really_ important that you give this to him. And I'm warning you, _don't peek_. The person you're giving this to is an old friend so don't lose it okay?"

Veneziano did a salute and chirruped a happy "Okay!"

"Here's the directions to get there. We have to prepare for your test so we can't deliver it ourselves otherwise we would have," Maria said, handing another piece of paper with directions. "There's a map on the back in case you get lost."

"We have to start now or we won't finish! So we'll see you later!" Soo said, tucking his pad of paper back into his pocket.

Veneziano nodded. "I understand!"

"Good then let's get going. See you later."

The two parties parted ways. Veneziano went to the left while the trio went to the right. It wasn't long before the river swallowed both parties from sight.

~*~

"Alright so what would you like to know?" Arthur asked, sipping his tea from his cup.

"Well first off," Ludwig started, "where did Veneziano come from?"

"When he was alive?" Arthur asked, cocking a brow.

"I suppose so."

Arthur sat back on his seat and crossed his legs under the table. "Well unless you're asking about the location of his death then I'm not sure where he's _from_."

"Okay then where'd he die?" Ludwig reiterated.

"He died near Edelstein Manor under one of the weeping willows situated close to a river." Arthur frowned and said softly, "It was one of the most brutal murders to ever occur to such a young child. He was only six approaching his seventh birthday."

"What… happened to him?" Ludwig asked slowly, careful to make sure he doesn't raise hostility for asking such a question about a supposedly very violent death but Arthur just simply folded his hands in his lap and began, looking downward.

"He didn't die quickly let me assure you," Arthur said dryly. "He died slowly and painfully. The person who did this had tied him down and with a knife, performed a live surgery without the anesthetics… Needless to say, his organs and bones were cut in a way where it was excruciating but won't permit death for at least an hour longer. His stomach had been slit open and the acid had slowly begun to dissolve his organs. What caused his death though was blood loss and it took quite some time until he lost enough to die. Imagine, lying there for hours before you are allowed to die, wracked in such unimaginable pain but unable to do anything about it. And that's," Arthur folded his arms across his chest, "how he died."

Ludwig felt disturbed by Arthur's story. The narration of Veneziano's slow, laborious torture was only part of the reason why he felt perturbed. For what reason could someone have to murder a child this lethally precise?

"We… aren't sure who did it," Arthur said, turning his attention elsewhere again as though ashamed by that fact. "But right after he was received in Heaven, he immediately decided to be a guardian angel and the rest is history. He had an Overseer assigned to him and he immediately began."

"How long has he been a… guardian angel?"

"I'd say… about… twenty years. In those twenty years, he has been able to help ninety-nine people. You're his hundredth person," Arthur said, looking back at Ludwig. "After he completes this mission, he will become a full-fledged angel of a higher caliber than me. Perhaps he will even become an Archangel."

"I see. So he's that good," Ludwig commented. "I'm sure those people are grateful."

"I suppose you can say that. A lot of people he helped underestimated him because of the way he acts but they gradually change their views. I'm sure you will too." Arthur had stated that as though it was a fact that was bound to happen.

"I'm not sure about that," Ludwig muttered doubtfully but Arthur had heard.

"You'll be surprised, Ludwig. Veneziano is full of surprises. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking he's a naïve kid who doesn't know better. Well let me just say this: He's a lot smarter than he looks. He knows things he should and shouldn't do so don't worry about teaching him useless things such as don't talk to strangers or look both ways before crossing a street," Arthur said and Ludwig thought he heard a trace of defensiveness in his tone.

"You sound protective of him," Ludwig said, voicing his thoughts.

Arthur snorted. "Of course. I've been with him for ten years now so it's a little difficult not to be close."

"Ten years? Hasn't he been guardian angel for twenty?"

"Yes but complications arose with his first Overseer so I filled in his spot," Arthur explained.

"Ah."

"Still," Arthur said, sighing and rubbing his temple with his fingers, suddenly looking just a little bit tired and just a little bit older, "he's still such a little idiot sometimes."

~*~

Veneziano hummed happily as he made his way through the crowd with two important pieces of papers on his person. One of them was in his pocket while the other was in his hand as he followed the instructions to his destination as carefully as possible. He wasn't very good with directions and got lost easily so he'll need to be extra cautious to make sure he delivered everyone's note to this person.

Ten blocks down and three wrong turns later, he stopped in front of an open stall market selling various kinds of fruits and vegetables.

He looked around the crowd, unsure about whom he was supposed to be looking for.

"Ah! There you are! I've been looking all over for you! Please don't sneak off like that okay? It's really busy today," a light-hearted voice suddenly said behind him.

Startled, Veneziano quickly spun around.

A tan Spanish-looking man stood cheerfully behind him with kind dark brown eyes that twinkled and hair that matched the color of his eyes. He had a happy, charismatic smile that could rival even the brightest optimist. He wore a simple outfit of white T-shirt, jeans, and a yellow apron with a tomato printed right in the middle. The posture of the man looked so relaxed despite the fact that he knows it's a busy day with no one to aid him.

A slightly curious look marred the Spaniard's features for a second before it morphed into a humored grin.

"Ah you look different… More… Hmm… Sweet?" he said, evaluating Veneziano.

"Ve?" Veneziano uttered, confused. "I think you might have the wrong person."

The man gave a laugh. "Nice try Romano but you're not going to get away from cashier duty this time. C'mon or else the people will start complaining," he said, quickly taking Veneziano's hand and leading him towards a row of cash registers where customers stood impatiently by the empty posts.

"Ro… mano?" Veneziano echoed, growing even more confused. "But my name is Veneziano." But the man simply shook his head merrily.

"Nope, sorry I'm afraid I can't let you get away this time Romano. I would have to wait for someone to deliver something to me and I have to keep watch in case he comes so I'll take over once I'm done okay?"

Veneziano's face immediately brightened as he found who he was looking for.

"That's me! I have something for you from Gilbert!" he cried out.

The man stopped dragging Veneziano towards the back of the store where the line of people stood waiting in front of the cash registers.

"Gilbert?" he asked, looking in befuddlement at Veneziano as he pulled the folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over.

The Spaniard unfolded the paper and read it over before looking up at Veneziano, his eyes wide in astonishment. He stared silently at Veneziano for a while, seeming to contemplate something before shaking his head, plastering his wide smile back on his face.

"Ah thank you for delivering this note. I'm sorry for mistaking you for Romano and I'm sorry for making you go through all this trouble to take this to me. Actually, I need to write a response so once again sorry to bother you but can you deliver my note back to Gilbert?" the man asked sheepishly.

"Of course!" Veneziano replied almost immediately, giving his own happy smile to the nice store worker.

"Excuse me for a moment."

The man took a pad of paper and a pencil from a pocket of his jeans and wrote something. He flipped it over and wrote something on the next page before ripping both pieces of paper out.

"Here you go. The first one is my message and the second paper is where Gilbert is. Be careful on your way there," he said, giving the small white sheets to Veneziano, who put the reply in his pocket.

"You can count on me! I'll make sure Gilbert gets it! I'll see you later!"

And with that, Veneziano, humming, walked through the store where he passed by an irate looking brunet man with brown eyes that were so dark, they were almost black. He whirled around to stare after the retreating Italian but not ten seconds later, the Spaniard gave a gleeful shout as he spotted him.

"Romano! There you are! Where did you go?" he bombarded once the grumpy looking man reached him.

"I was busy with something else dammit! Stop getting on my case all the time Antonio," Romano said tightly, his fair features twisting into one of annoyance.

The rough behavior didn't seem to discourage Antonio who just waved and laughed it off.

"Well okay I'll let you go this time but next time, tell me when you go out to do something or else I might mistake somebody else for you," Antonio said in a teasing tone.

Romano snorted and rolled his eyes. "That's just you. No one else could look like me. You're just seeing things," he said nastily.

"I suppose you might be right. Oh! We better hurry to the cash registers before we lose customers," Antonio exclaimed, suddenly remembering the long line of people that have been waiting to pay for almost twenty minutes now.

"Fine," Romano grumbled and trudged behind the Spanish man as he happily made his way behind the cash registers.

However, despite his assurances to Antonio that he was hallucinating things due to his stupidity, he couldn't seem to get his mind off that stranger with soft brown hair and even softer brown eyes that he recognized. Antonio had insisted that the stranger looked exactly like him except not and Antonio had gone on a frustrated tirade how two people in the world can't look exactly alike and not and that the sighting was because of terrible eyesight to which Spaniard apologized, saying it must be because he was a little tired.

But Romano knew what he saw and the more he yelled at Antonio, the more doubt that grew. It might have just been a fleeting glance but he knew from the instant he saw that it was real. Maybe he's been looking in the mirror too much if he's starting to see people who look just like him or maybe _he _was the one with bad eyes because the odd part was…

The stranger also held startled recognition in his eyes too.

~*~

Another ten blocks and one wrong turn later, Veneziano arrived at the park Ludwig and he had gone to just yesterday.

He meandered along the path, passing by women, men, and children as he went, all enjoying the day while it lasted before the sky that had been filling rapidly with clouds could burst.

He hummed as he moved along, enjoying the sound of crunching leaves if he happened to step on any while keeping a lookout for any of his friends.

Only about fifteen minutes down the path did he spot the trio sitting in the grass under one of the many trees in the park. Maria sat in facing the tree, Gilbert and Soo sitting on either side of her. As he approached, he could tell they were discussing something in hushed tones, looking worried yet serious at the same time.

Veneziano hesitated coming closer but Soo had seemed to have already spotted him and waved him over.

"Hey Veneziano! Welcome back!" he greeted when he was closer. "Sit down!"

Veneziano obliged and settled down on a spot in the circle, his back against the tree trunk.

"I delivered the note you gave me and he wrote a reply!" Veneziano announced upon sitting down. He reached into his pocket and handed over the Spaniard's paper over to the group.

Maria took the paper and opened it, skimming the words before saying softly to her companions, "He says yes."

"What? Let me see that!" Gilbert demanded and snatched the piece of paper from her. He too read the message before giving a frustrated groan. "Shit."

Veneziano watched curiously as Gilbert thrust the note under Soo's nose.

"You see this? It's happening to him too! And his business isn't even one-hundredth as big as yours."

Soo crossed his eyes looking at the reply that Gilbert presented before taking it from him and putting it in his own pocket and sighing in defeat.

"This isn't very good…" he muttered resignedly.

"What's happening?" Veneziano asked tentatively.

The group snapped out of their melancholy at the new arrival's questioning and they looked at each other in silent agreement.

Gilbert cleared his throat, signaling that he was going to go first.

"Well you see Veneziano, something a bit complicated is happening. Soo here owns a small business and lately, he's been getting some letters harassing him about selling it to some other big-shot company. Through our connections, we found out it's been happening to other people too. Doesn't matter how small it is or what business it is. It could range from pet stores to eraser manufacturing."

"Well the letters aren't harassing as they are a bit threatening," Soo supplied, scrunching up his face. "Threatening as in blackmailing and stuff like that."

"We wanted to make absolutely sure that this was really happening thus sending you to Antonio's stall to see if he's been getting those letters too. His reply confirms it," Maria sighed. "But it's funny that it's only happening to small time businesses that has an average income of $233,000. You'd think that a big company wouldn't need to worry about these small businesses."

"Whatever the case is, it's weird but before we go any further, we want to talk about those tests we made you go through Veneziano," Gilbert said seriously.

"While we do intend to help you with Ludwig, we also want you to help us too. Those tests we made you go through were tests of trust. The first test was to see whether you trust us and the second test was to see if we could trust you and of course, you passed with flying colors," Maria said with a gentle smile.

"We wrote about going to Maria's house and ditching you and we wrote down 'her address.' Of course, you would go there angrily and bang on one of our friend's door and after you leave in confusion, he'll call us and tell us that you've read our message. Of course, if you weren't Antonio, you wouldn't be able to know what was going on. We phoned him yesterday before you met Maria and Soo and agreed to be part of our test. Of course, we did ask him if this blackmail thing was going on with him too but at the time he was too busy to say so we killed two birds with one stone by having you do our test and we get our answer. If you had read Antonio's message, you would find yourself back at his store and you would have failed," Gilbert explained with a smirk. "Pretty smart huh?"

Veneziano's eyes were wide with amazement as he exclaimed, "So I passed?"

"Of course," Maria answered. "We've gone through a few people with this test and let's just say that they all failed horribly. Human curiosity I guess."

"Okay we can celebrate later but we have other matters at hand," Gilbert reminded. "While we affirmed that smaller companies are being blackmailed, I want to see if the bigger companies are being affected as well and what better place to start investigating than my own workplace? I've tried asking Alfred but he doesn't know of course." Gilbert rolled his eyes at that. "I also asked Wang but he won't give a straight answer."

"I've also tried asking brother but he just swatted me away with his wok," Soo said.

"It's really suspicious and I need as much help as possible even if you're just the office boy. You do have a lot of access to different areas so maybe that'll be useful. The less people in on this investigation the better and I know I can trust you, Veneziano so will you help us out? It's just a little investigation I'm pretty sure nothing's going on here but just in case."

"Sure! I'll be glad to help!" Veneziano agreed without a second thought.

"Great! I knew I can count on you," Gilbert said, flashing a triumphant grin before looking thoughtful. "Although truthfully, I don't know how to start this investigation but I'll think of something. Maria and Soo are still here to help too at least…"

"And that's about it," Maria said in a perky way. "Thanks for putting up with this but it's pretty important. We have vast connections with people and we can't just let information run freely to an untrustworthy person. Information is a dangerous thing to have after all."

Soo nodded in agreement. "That's right! If information fell on the wrong person, it could be disastrous."

"But we have a pretty good handle on it so it's okay," Maria added.

"Alright so I guess we can all go home then unless you guys want to hang out a bit more," Gilbert said, already getting up and stretching, stifling a yawn.

Maria shook her head, also standing. "No I have to go now. I've already put off my part-time job for this and I need to head home to rest."

"It's my turn to cook dinner so I need to buy some food," Soo said, jumping up followed by Veneziano.

Gilbert nodded and turned to Veneziano. "Well we better get home just to shove the fact you never got lost into Ludwig's face." He then addressed his other two friends. "I'll see you two later. I'll let you guys know if anything comes up with our investigation."

"Good luck with that," Maria said. "Okay I'll be going now. Bye!"

Soo also bade farewell before running off in the direction of the nearest supermarket to buy his necessary ingredients for his lunch and dinner.

"Let's get going then."

Veneziano nodded in agreement and bounced energetically alongside Gilbert as they walked back home.

* * *

**Author's Rambling Section:** Hmm... I dunno 'bout you guys but I feel I could have done better during Arthur and Ludwig's conversation like I'm missing something or... something but I dunno what exactly I mean I've looked at it backwards and forwards but... Argh! Maybe I'm lacking more emotion and inner thoughts?

Oh by the way, while I've been writing stories for maybe two years(?) and got many reviews, I'm not sure if I'm supposed to reply to them... While it makes me look like a nub to ask_ now_, I don't want to seem rude to everyone and thank teh people who cheer me up by leaving reviews so should I start replying? Geez now I really do seem like a nub for asking my readers but I need to know in case you guys got offended by my non-response.


	9. V is for Veneziano

* * *

**_Chapter 9:_** V is for Veneziano

* * *

"So Veneziano is going to be staying in your house from now on?"

Ludwig sighed as Yukimo continued to poke and prod at the matter, starting to get an inkling of an idea that she thought he was a criminal whom she needed to interrogate.

"Why do you want to know Ms. Suzaku?" Ludwig asked in mild irritation, not even bothering to turn around to answer.

He heard her huff and he could just see her put her hands on her hips.

"Because I'm interested! Veneziano is a very cute guy! He looks so huggable!" Yukimo squealed and Ludwig had to resist the urge to wince at the high pitch.

"You know, I can be just as good as that guy," a male standing ignored beside Yukimo drawled.

"Yeah but you're not cute. You're just hot," Yukimo protested, turning to give her boyfriend a 'duh' look. "And frankly, that gets to your head too much, Riyu."

Riyu rolled his midnight black eyes though it was a bit hard to see his right eye considering it was covered up by black hair. His sapphire, raindrop-shaped earring on his left ear caught a bit of light and twinkled a bit at the slight motion of his head.

"No it doesn't," Riyu said coolly and flicked Yukimo on the forehead, earning a whine of protest. "Now hurry up and get to work and stop bothering the poor guy."

"Since when did you care about work? You're always sighing and complaining about how boring it is!" Yukimo protested stubbornly.

"Yeah but I, at least, have the decency to complain at home. I don't think this workplace needs anymore stress. Besides, Wang threatened to make you go overtime if you don't finish today's work."

Yukimo mumbled something under her breath and trudged off. Ludwig could just sigh with relief.

"I'm sorry about Yukimo. She is ah… enthusiastic a lot of times," Riyu apologized.

"Thanks."

There was a pause before Riyu spoke again, seemingly waiting for Ludwig to say more.

"I'll be going back to my own station now. If Yukimo bothers you anymore, alert me and I'll drag her out." And with a series of dull footsteps on the office carpet, he was gone.

It did seem a bit rude to brush Riyu off but not only does Ludwig have work, he also felt the strange need to be more cautious around him. It wasn't that he disliked the man. He was a quiet, efficient worker who is quite cunning, a great skill to have in the world of business but while he seemed like the kind of person that Ludwig would get along with well, something about him struck the wrong chord.

For one thing, Riyu Nyte was just too fluid with everything and anything he did was perfect. He was too efficient, frighteningly so, and he was soft-spoken, speaking few words but getting right to the chase, hitting where it hurts if it had to and never wasting a breath. This also meant he doesn't reveal much about himself. On days when he was ill-humored, his words would be dry with witty sarcasm that strikes so hard that people don't pick up on it for a few minutes before they finally caught up with the meaning.

To Ludwig, he had a calm that reminded of wild storms rampaging silently in a faraway distance from an onlooker who watched safely from a sunny, peaceful field. When Riyu walks by, it was like a hidden snake slithering in the premises. He had a deadly quiet around him.

Yukimo seemed oblivious to this fact despite being her boyfriend for nigh on five years if not longer. She seemed to always be filled with praises about him such as, "He's so cool!" or "He may not be as smart as me but he's got plenty of slyness to outwit anybody."

That was one comment that left Ludwig a bit disturbed. If his intuition is right, then Riyu has everyone fooled about who he is and his intentions. He could easily already have everyone under his thumb, which was definitely dangerous but with no proof other than his instincts, Ludwig can't very well tell everyone to stay away from him. Besides, Ludwig never relied on instincts because it was untrustworthy, only facts. It could be that the man was pretty enigmatic to all except, perhaps, Yukimo that made Ludwig suspicious of him. Either way, he should try to be friendlier towards Riyu from now on if only for business purposes.

"Ludwig!"

Ludwig sighed at the second interruption of the day before ten o'clock. He turned to face Veneziano who stood excitedly on the balls of his feet, holding out a wad of papers.

"I finished gathering the papers from the people on the list!" he said proudly.

Ludwig took the sheath of papers from Veneziano and leafed through them twice to make sure before nodding slowly in approval.

"Thanks Veneziano. You did a good job," Ludwig complimented almost half-mindedly. The praise, however caused Veneziano to burst with happiness and he cheered.

"Yay! Ludwig said I did a good job!" he crowed.

"Now Veneziano, can you help staple these papers together? Staple three sheets okay?" Ludwig instructed, passing over the stapler over to the eager office boy.

"Okay!" And he immediately sat down and set out to work.

The plan was to think up of trivial things to occupy Veneziano's time so that there wouldn't be another spectacular mess for the annoyed employees to clean up. Ludwig would have his peace and Veneziano would have something to distract him. It's a win-win situation. The only flaw to this, however, was thinking up the jobs for him to do. Ludwig would need to think of things to occupy Veneziano for hours, five days a week. It's going to be difficult and as big as this office was, there _is_ a limit on how much menial work there is and if he really didn't have a choice, let the Italian go off doing the more serious jobs around the workplace. Hopefully by then, Veneziano would have gained enough office experience to be able to handle it.

But…

Ludwig winced as he turned around just in time to catch Veneziano accidentally puncture his finger in between the sharp metal teeth of the staple remover.

Something told him it's going to take a long while before that happened.

"Come on Veneziano," Ludwig sighed as he towed the crying Italian to the supply room where the bandages were kept.

He looked through one of the many shelves until he found a small box of bandages standing next to its white medical box. He took one out and wrapped it around the sniffing Veneziano's finger.

"Thank you Ludwig," he said, calming down from the pain after the wound was covered.

"It's no problem Veneizano now let's get back to work," Ludwig said, leading the way back to his work station with the Italian right behind him.

"Ludwig, what are we going to have for lunch today?" he asked, already forgetting about his minor wound.

"The same thing I always have," Ludwig replied plainly.

"But don't you get tired of that? Why don't we go out to eat? It'd be fun! We can go to one of the restaurants nearby!"

Great now Veneziano was getting excited about his idea. It'll be difficult to persuade him from it but Ludwig could always firmly refuse so it didn't matter whether or not he needed to dissuade Veneziano, which was a good thing because the boy isn't exactly the easiest person to dissuade.

"No."

There was a whine. "But why? It'll be fun!"

"We might not make it back in time if we go out."

"Please Ludwig?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No, Veneziano."

"But we'll make it back in time! We'll just eat reeeaally quickly and you can watch the time! Please? It won't be that bad!" Veneziano begged and didn't cease when they resumed working. In fact, he began chattering about all the different kinds of food they could eat and how they could go outside for a while for some fresh air.

"Alright fine Veneziano. You win. We'll go outside to eat today," Ludwig finally relented, giving in exasperatedly to Veneziano's noisy distraction.

He let out a small cheer of victory then quickly concentrated vigorously in his work, humming as he stapled papers together.

The thought of going out didn't bode too well with Ludwig. First of all, there was the possibly they could be late in getting back in and second of all, Veneziano is easily distracted so he might see something that will hold them up. On the other hand, Ludwig did have to admit, fresh air now and then would be nice even if the sky was still cloudy from yesterday with the threat of rain.

Lunchtime eventually rolled around through the blur of work and before Ludwig knew it, he was dragged into the elevator and he was out on the streets. Veneziano was talking about something to do with pasta and whatnot while leading the way but Ludwig wasn't really listening. Instead, he just went with the flow and let the happy Italian do all the chattering until he suddenly stopped in front of a large store window with a delighted exclamation.

"Look Ludwig! Kitties!"

Veneziano had instantly glued himself in front of the pet shop window, staring at the frolicking cats of all colors, patterns, and sizes.

"They're so cute! I've always wanted a cat ever since I was little," he said happily.

"I see."

"Yeah but I couldn't keep one because it might mess up the house and I didn't really have time to take care of it," Veneziano said a little sadly before perking back up. "What about you Ludwig? Have you ever wanted something when you were little?"

"Not really."

Veneziano swiveled around and looked at him in shock. "Haven't you _ever_ wanted something?"

"No."

"But everyone wants _something_! A book? A game? What about pasta? Pizza? Or…"

Ludwig sighed. "No Veneziano. I don't want any of those."

"Please tell me Ludwig?" Veneziano begged. "Please?"

"There isn't anything I want because I already have everything I want."

"But you can't possibly have everything you want! Otherwise, you'd be bored won't you?"

Ludwig was growing irritated. He should have known by now that Veneziano's stubborn streak wasn't going to let it go unless he answered but he honestly can't think of anything he wanted because there _wasn't_ anything he wanted. If he didn't give an answer, however, Veneziano would continue to pester him and that thought didn't go down well so he replied with the only answer he could think of in that split second that didn't sound too ridiculous.

"A dog. I've always wanted a dog. Happy?" Ludwig said exasperatedly.

At the answer, Veneziano's eyes seemed to light up like a flashlight.

"Oh! I love dogs but I like cats better! Why don't you get one then?" he asked.

"Because there's no one who could take care of it when Gilbert and I go to work," Ludwig replied. "Now come on and let's go. We don't have a lot of time."

He walked a few paces ahead, hoping that Veneziano would follow him but the brunet stayed firmly on the spot.

"Let's go inside and take a look!" Veneziano suggested brightly.

Ludwig gave a slight groan and began protesting. "Veneziano, no—"

But it was too late. He had already gone inside the pet store and it didn't look like he was willing to get out on his own, prompting Ludwig to go inside himself to drag him back out.

The sound of yipping dogs and tweeting birds and the smell of wet fur immediately hit Ludwig upon entering: the typical sounds and smells of a pet shop. The front was rather crowded with various supplies for pets but the back was spacious, allowing customers to view the pets they want comfortably. Different birds of different sizes were confined in cages hung on the ceiling where they sat chirruping and squawking. One half of the far wall held glass cases of reptiles and the other half held cages of hamsters and rabbits. The left wall held fish of various colors while the right wall held cages where dogs and cats were kept and where Veneziano was currently kneeling in front of.

Upon Ludwig's approach, Veneziano looked up and gestured to the Rottweiler he was currently kneeling in front of and gave a grin.

"Look, look Ludwig! Isn't he cute?" he said, turning back to the dog who circled once in his cage.

"Veneziano we don't have time for this," Ludwig stated. "Now come on."

"But Ludwig! The tag says he's a rescued pet! Why can't we adopt him?" Veneziano asked, turning pleading eyes back up at the German.

"Because we can't take care of a dog," Ludwig repeated for the second time.

"Well what if I found a way so that we can keep him?" the Italian asked determinedly. "Can we adopt him then?"

"Veneziano, I have no problems with having a dog in the house but there's no way we can take care of him while we're all at work. He'll starve or mess up the house while we're away now come on," Ludwig tried to persuade exasperatedly.

"Well what if we train him so that he knows not to do bad things and we can always leave some food out for him to eat if he's hungry! Please Ludwig? I feel sorry for him," Veneziano said, gazing sadly at the Rottweiler.

"Veneziano…" Ludwig began but was unable to tell him that he never wanted a dog in the first place. He figured it wasn't about that anymore anyway. Now, it was about taking in a dog, subject to animal abuse in the past, and giving him a nice home. He wasn't a cold-hearted person and he did see why Veneziano wants to take the dog in so much. The Rottweiler was riddled with numerous scars, some of them deep wounds and the blonde would allow it into his house if he could but the truth was there is no way that would happen anytime soon.

"How about this?" Ludwig proposed instead, instantly getting Veneziano's attention. "We'll adopt him."

The Italian instantly lit up however, Ludwig wasn't finished. "But," he continued, emphasizing the word, "you're going to have to find a way to keep him in check until we've trained him enough so that he doesn't do anything unpleasant in the house."

"Okay!" Veneziano answered energetically. "I already thought of how we can do it!"

Ludwig raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah!" he affirmed. "We can ask Arthur to watch over him!"

"Would he do that?" Somehow, Ludwig just didn't find Arthur the kind of guy who would waste his time watching over animals when he had better things to do and he did seem like the kind of person with a lot of work to keep him preoccupied.

"Of course! He'd help an animal in need!" Veneziano said confidently.

Ludwig was still skeptical of this but it wouldn't hurt to try.

"Alright Veneziano but until then, the dog stays where he is," he said before checking his watch. There was only fifteen minutes left of lunch. "Well it's too late to eat out now. We'll have to head back inside and eat what Toris left on the desk."

Veneziano nodded, gave the Rottweiler a soft good-bye, and followed Ludwig out of the pet store, heading back towards their office.

~*~

"So, where did you and my brother go off to during lunch?" Gilbert asked offhandedly as he took a stapled packet from Veneziano.

"We went out to eat! But we didn't get to because we were looking at some dogs. Ludwig said if I can find someone who can watch over one of them, we'll adopt him!" he replied.

Gilbert stared at Veneziano for a moment before snickering.

"What?" Veneziano asked in confusion as to why his friend suddenly started laughing for no apparent reason.

"No it's nothing. Just that Ludwig wanted a dog a long time ago when we were little but we couldn't keep him because we didn't have the money or room to. Who knew he still wanted a dog?"

"You didn't know?" the Italian asked curiously.

Gilbert sighed and leaned back in his swivel chair, tossing the packet carelessly onto his desk. "Oh I knew that Ludwig liked dogs but I didn't think he'd actually want to own one now. It's getting pretty hard to figure out what he wants nowadays because he keeps insisting he already has everything. I guess I didn't push him hard enough. I just figured that he's a grown man who knows what he's doing and knows what he wants. Guess I shouldn't have left him alone like that," he finished, frowning.

Veneziano shook his head. "Ludwig probably doesn't want to bother you with what he wants so he just ignores it."

Gilbert scoffed and rolled his eyes. "That guy needs to learn how to loosen up a bit. He annoys me sometimes with his 'I can handle it myself' attitude. I'll need to talk to him later but right now, I need to borrow you for a sec," he said, waving Veneziano closer while turning his attention to the computer in front of him.

The other shuffled closer, shifting the bundle of papers he cradled in one arm and peeked questioningly at what Gilbert was referring to.

"Here, I wanted you to see this piece of news. I'm not sure if it's related to Soo and Antonio's problem but this is still pretty big."

The big, bold headlines on the screen announced, "Big Wave Enterprise No Longer Solo?"

Smaller black text underneath read:

Yesterday on Sunday October 10th, Big Wave Enterprise, renowned for their revolutionary and well-loved toys for children of all ages, has partnered up with a dark horse company after almost fifteen years of independence. The small-scale company, Yellow Fields, seems to specialize in a variety of areas including the production of glass figurines. It is unclear what these two companies may be planning for the future but…

"Strange isn't it? How a small company can manage to get a partnership with such a large one who has refused countless other proposals and on top of that, this Yellow Fields doesn't even have a thing to do with toys." Gilbert shook his head. "I don't know about you but I think that maybe this partnership is going to hit our own company too but we'll just watch for now. If this happens two or three more times, then you know something's up. In the meantime, I want you to help keep a lookout on the news and tell me if you think something is fishy."

"Sure!" Veneziano chirruped.

"Oh yeah. One other thing I forgot to tell you about yesterday. The company that was blackmailing, SM Inc., apparently holds some power for a never-heard-of-before business because the police didn't do a thing about the letter. Soo just kept receiving them. Whatever we're dealing with here is more powerful than we think," Gilbert cautioned.

Veneziano nodded just before a familiar voice called out, "Veneziano, what's taking so long delivering papers to Gilbert?"

Ludwig strode into sight, looking a bit miffed about Veneziano's extended absence but otherwise, didn't look too annoyed.

"It's nothing," he replied like a mischievous child up to no good.

"Then get back to work," Ludwig reprimanded lightly to which Veneziano saluted and bounced away.

"You sound like you're in a good mood," Gilbert commented casually, smirking. "Have fun on your little date?"

Ludwig frowned. "We weren't on a date," he corrected, walking away. "We simply went out for lunch."

"Ah, ah, ah. Hold it. I still have something else to talk to you about," Gilbert said, rising from his seat and going up to Ludwig as he turned around.

"Yes?" he asked patiently.

"Well," Gilbert started, pausing to figure out what words to use to describe what he's thinking, "You do know that you can get anything you want right?"

"I know that perfectly well," Ludwig confirmed.

"Okay so why didn't you tell me you wanted a dog?"

His brother sighed exasperatedly. "Veneziano told you about the dog didn't he? I don't want a dog because it's simply too hard to keep it if we do get one."

"Is that the only reason? Because it's too troublesome and we can't take care of it?" Gilbert questioned, raising a brow.

"Yes," Ludwig affirmed. "Is this all you wanted to talk about?"

"Mmm… Not quite although I don't quite buy your excuse I'll let it go… for now. What I want to talk about is you and Veneziano."

"Okay then. What about him?"

"I think you should hang out with him more or at least be a bit nicer. It might do you some good. Maybe you won't be such a hard-ass. You'll even have someone to be your friend and to confide in. It'll be good for you. The not-being-a-hard-ass is a nice bonus though."

Ludwig rolled his eyes and said, "Sorry for being responsible, Gilbert."

Gilbert frowned and crossed his arms. "But I'm serious. You know, I might not always be around forever. When I'm not here, what are you going to do? You're going to be alone and don't say you're fine with that because it won't be. You need friends and people like everyone else but if you keep pushing away those who are willing to put up with you, you're going to be left with nothing. I'm not there and no one else is there for you so who will you turn to?"

"Look, I know I'll be fine. I can take care of myself even if you do leave so you don't have to worry about me being lonely."

Gilbert stared at him for a few moments before he sighed and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly.

"Sometimes, you just need to risk trusting a little. You're a very smart man, Ludwig. I'm sure your judgment of people will be good enough but if you continue on like this, you're going to go nowhere," he said softly.

"I don't see how that has to do with anything but I'll keep that in mind," Ludwig denied before turning around sharply and walking away, leaving Gilbert standing on the spot to gaze at his brother's retreating back.

* * *

**Author's Rambling Section:** Ack! Sorry about the second OC. I know you guys probably don't like them but I promise you, he is absolutely necessary so please bear with it DX If it makes you guys feel better, he won't be appearing all _that_ much but I dunno. It depends on how I decide to write the rest of the story...


	10. Running From Fault

**A/N:** Hey everyone! This is the 10th chapter of Your Guardian Angel and we're really beginning to roll now! Thanks for all your kind support! It makes me really happy that you guys are sticking around to read this far! This chapter's a bit shorter but the next chapter's a lot more... well... wouldn't you like to know so enjoy until then!

* * *

**_Chapter 10:_** Running From Fault

* * *

Arthur scowled as he tugged on the leash of the dog he was leading through the streets.

He had no idea how he got roped into doing this but he was now taking care of a dog while Veneziano, Ludwig, and Gilbert were at work. He hadn't wanted to do it and he remembered refusing profusely, saying he had better things to do than babysit a mutt but somewhere between the hours Veneziano spent crying and whining he had screamed, "Fine! I'll do it!" in frustration and the rest was history.

Arthur glanced down at the Rottweiler named Pasta (Arthur had rolled his eyes at the name) and muttered grumpily, "This is entirely your fault," to which the dog promptly ignored and continued to look curiously around his environment.

Really, he should be searching for traces of magic, consulting his faeries about anything strange and tracking down where all those angels disappeared. He should at least be trying to figure out how that one demon managed to erase himself from the books.

Nothing he could do about it now though because he already promised and he was not one to break his word.

Arthur looked idly around as he continued down the street.

Last night's rain made everything damp and wet, creating a musky smell of fallen leaves and a scent uniquely autumn. Arthur, having decided that there was nothing he could do about his fate at the moment, resigned himself to enjoy the pleasant day. The sunlight was streaming in from the sky dotted with a few stray puffy clouds and a small breeze made everything comfortably cool. It wasn't too crowded as most people would be working right now and—

Arthur screeched to a stop as he stared at someone a few feet in front of him, Pasta whining a bit in protest.

The man had a shocking head of blonde hair with a bundle of hair sticking up at the front and a pair of rectangular glasses sitting on his nose, shielding a pair of bright blue eyes. He was wearing a blue business suit with a white shirt underneath and a red tie tucked into the suit, signifying his all important businessman status.

The man was munching on what looked like a burger and holding a briefcase in his other hand while standing at the edge of a crosswalk, waiting for the light on the other side to turn green.

Arthur quickly scrambled back down the path he came, thanking heaven that Alfred didn't notice him otherwise there would be serious complications.

Once he was safely at a distance from the American, he gave a sigh of relief, taking a few moments to calm down from the sudden shock.

That had been close. It wouldn't do for Alfred to see him when he should have been dead for nearly ten years and Arthur grimaced as he imagined the reaction he would get if he did get spotted. He mentally took note to be more cautious around the city in case there were any more familiar faces and continued on his walk.

He didn't know where to go exactly for the next few hours until the owners of the Rottweiler returned home. He could go to the park but what'll he do afterwards? Pasta was definitely _not_ going to stay at his own house which left Arthur basically stranded outside and to think that he's going to be doing this for a few weeks. Maybe he should ask Ludwig for access to his house when they meet again later on.

A sudden stop startled Arthur and he looked down at Pasta to see what was wrong before looking up at the direction he was staring in.

It was another dog. It was rather big with long white fur, short, roundish ears, small puffy tail and a white collar around its neck. It looked rather strange actually. Maybe it was because of the ears. This dog didn't seem fazed by the newcomers as it only ambled around on the sidewalk before finally sitting down right in the middle and staring up at Arthur. The owner didn't seem to be anywhere in sight.

The Brit urged Pasta to move on and they walked past the roadblock, continuing on. Only half a block later, he heard the clack, clack, clack of another dog's paw hitting the cement and he turned around to find in his slight amazement that the white dog had followed him.

Upon receiving Arthur's attention, the dog sat back down and stared up at him. Where was this dog's owner? The collar didn't have a tag so there was no way to check where it came from but it can't just keep following him around.

He contemplated what to do for a little while and decided to just stay where he was in case the owner happened to run into them and if not, file a lost dog report and take him to the closest shelter and hope the owner would go there and find his pet. He decided to give this person thirty minutes and if by then he doesn't come, it was off to the shelter.

Arthur leaned back against a brick wall and checked his watch.

10:32 A.M.

He glanced down at the two dogs and was pleased to find that they got along instead of attacking each other. The white dog was pretty well behaved, sitting right next to Arthur and staring off at the passing cars silently along with Pasta, who sometimes nudged his companion around in curiosity.

The minutes crept by and Arthur was beginning to head out when he heard a faint voice call out, "Kumajirou! There you are!"

He turned back around and took one glance at who it was before quickly panicking and bolting out of the scene.

"Ah! Wait!"

Oh no. He was _not_ waiting around for Matthew to catch up and have heart failure from seeing his foster father/brother come back to life from beyond the grave and as Arthur skidded to a stop, panting for air at some street corner, he wondered what was up with today. He had bumped into two former relations in one day among the thousands of other people in the city. He'd have thought that the chance was slim to none but these coincidences proved that wrong.

Pasta looked happy though. He got to run around twice and got to stay outside instead of cooped up in a house. Well he was certainly carefree.

Arthur shook it off and decided that it was just a fluke. He was confident he would meet no more people he knew and who knew him. What were the chances of that happening anyway?

So, with this thought in mind, he decided to start looking for a place he could have lunch. He was sure most establishments won't allow dogs inside…

He stood outside the window of a café and looked down at Pasta. He could tie him to that lamppost and go inside for a few biscuits and a cup of tea to go. Liking that idea, he quickly tied the Rottweiler and opened the door to get in, looking back to make sure he stayed where he was when someone collided with him, making the person drop the Styrofoam cup of coffee he had in his hand.

"Ah! I'm sorry," Arthur apologized, picking up the fallen cup. "I'll pay for a new one."

"Non, I should be. I wasn't watching where I was going. It is no problem."

Arthur swiveled around with the cup in hand and froze.

Blue eyes and shoulder-length wavy blonde hair was all he needed to see before he jolted back to Pasta and clumsily untied the knot, going for a nice run for the third time that day.

This was insane! This was madness! Not even a week had passed and he—he had spotted all three most significant people in his life, all of which were close calls! Well, maybe except the last one. Francis had actually seen him face to face and all Arthur could do was pray that Francis thought he was seeing things or shrug it out of his mind but what if he doesn't? What if he— Deep breath. Calm down, think logically. He was dead and Francis knew that. There was no reason he would go around searching for a dead man when he knows this.

Arthur relaxed slightly from the thought though his heart was still hammering as he, once again, made his way down the street, alert for the presence of a familiar face.

The next few hours had put Arthur on edge and by three in the afternoon, he was a nervous wreck.

He sat down heavily on a bench near the entrance to the park after taking Pasta through it. It wasn't even six and he was already exhausted. Pasta had sensed Arthur's tenseness and had been harder to handle, which didn't help matters any. Right now, the dog was restless, pacing back and forth and seemed to watch anyone walking by attentively.

Arthur couldn't wait to go home and relax with a cup of tea and a good book. He was just so _tired_ and he could just fall asleep right here, right now. In fact, he was already beginning to doze off, leaning his head back over the edge of the back of the bench. He might have fallen fitfully into the world of sleep if it weren't for the sudden loud barks from Pasta that abruptly startled him from his dreamy reverie. Abruptly awake, he started to try to calm him down when he spotted the white dog.

The white dog that belonged to Matthew.

Matthew who was staring at him with Alfred right beside him.

Silence as Arthur's tired brain idled around, flopping through vague actions he should be doing like running away at the speed of light.

"Oh my god," Alfred murmured, looking wide-eyed at him.

_Oh my god indeed_, Arthur agreed numbly, already imagining several scenarios that could happen if he didn't get out of here right now. For instance, Matthew might faint and Alfred might think someone's posing as Arthur or…

"It's the ghost of Arthur!" Alfred screamed almost hysterically, pointing at the aforementioned 'ghost.'

Flared temper.

"I'm not a ghost you twat!" Arthur yelled back indignantly surging up from his seat before he realized he shouldn't have spoken. Cursing under his breath, he shot down the street with Pasta running after him, who resumed his barking from before.

"Hey!"

Why did this kind of crap have to happen? If this was some kind of celestial joke…

_I'M NOT LAUGHING_, Arthur thought in rage, knowing that Alfred was chasing after him, possibly with Matthew trailing after. If they manage to catch up, Arthur's got a lot of explaining to do, which would _not_ be fun and definitely _not_ funny. It hasn't even been a week since he came here and already he's been found out! Is this some kind of a set up or something?

But wait. Something seems a bit off. Alfred's afraid of ghosts isn't he? So why in the world would he go chasing after something he thought was a ghost?

Hearing the set of footsteps pounding against the pavement, Arthur decided to push it into the back of his mind. He needed to concentrate on getting away rather than thinking about the randomness that was Alfred.

Three blocks later, Arthur spotted the same face from the entrance to the café with the crystal blue eyes, stubble of a beard, and wavy hair tied up to a ponytail in the distance. Francis seemed to be walking way too slowly smack in the middle of the sidewalk, looking off to the side at some roses growing in a long patch of soil.

Arthur growled. Inconsiderate French idiot. If you're going to look at flowers, look at them while standing to the side not in the middle of the frickin' sidewalk!

He sprinted past Francis, making sure to give him an extra hard bump as he passed to ensure he stumbles and yelled, "Don't just stand around you stupid frog!"

The feeling of satisfaction for berating Francis for milling around like an idiot was quickly wiped off as realization for what he did set in.

"Shit!" Arthur cursed.

Life was just peachy.

The day is nice and cool, the sun is shining, birds are singing, Pasta won't stop barking, possibly three pursuers are on his heels, and he's got a killer headache.

Arthur made a note to himself to think of methods to calm his temper down because he wouldn't have gotten in this mess in the first place if he didn't open his big trap and ran instead like any sane angel would do.

He pulled himself behind a corner and rounded another one before stopping, dropping to one knee and holding up Pasta's muzzle so that the dog was looking at him.

"Shhh," Arthur hissed under his breath and to his relief, the mutt stopped barking.

After waiting a couple of seconds to ensure Pasta didn't start again, Arthur slowly retracted his hand and stood up, peeking around the corner.

No one there but just to be safe, he's going to stay there for a few more minutes. If he could, he would already change into angel form to escape mortal eyes but if he did, it might mean instant detection by the enemy. A demon of this caliber was nothing to underestimate and every precaution should be made.

So Arthur waited with his back to the cool wall, peeking around the corner for any signs of people.

Five minutes later, Arthur let out the breath he had been holding, a small smile forming on his face. He swept the area one more time just to be sure and turned his head. The smile promptly fell from his face.

There was Kumajirou, standing right across the street. Why is does that dog insist on following him? Well whatever the reason, Kumajirou was getting Pasta excited and the Rottweiler let out a loud, happy bark.

Arthur's heart skipped a beat and he tugged on the leash hard, forcefully hissing, "No!" When Pasta refused to heed, he started to panic and got down on one knee to try to placate the dog when lo and behold, Matthew runs up to Kumajirou and picks him up. The strange white dog gives a small whine as if questioning, "Who?" at his owner, but said owner was not paying attention to him anymore. Arthur hurriedly tried to shush Pasta with no success before deciding to give up and just flee.

It seems as though fate has something against Arthur that day because who should come running towards the racket but Francis and Alfred.

"You found him! Good job Matt!" Alfred called out to Matthew who seemed to stutter a thank you that went unheard. Instead, both newcomers closed in on Arthur, who was busy trying to become one with the wall.

Pasta have stopped barking and was instead pacing in front of Arthur, looking at the two strangers, occasionally making small growls. The trapped Brit turned his attention to Pasta and gave a few slight tugs on the leash until he finally complied with his wishes and backed off, opting to lie down on the ground.

With Pasta now calmed, Arthur nervously looked back up to find two intense blue eyes and one disbelieving eyes fixed on him and he had to wonder if they have to _stare_ so much.

Slight irritation mixing with his nervousness, Arthur growled out, "What are you looking at?"

Alfred cautiously stepped forward from the ring of people and Arthur watched warily as he lifted an arm and pinched him hard.

"Ow you git! What is wrong with you? Why did you do that?" Arthur cried, slapping the hand away from him.

Alfred sighed in relief and let out a laugh. "Oh so you're not a ghost," he said with a sheepish smile.

"Of course not!" Arthur responded huffily, crossing his arms. "I'm insulted you think I am."

"Yup. It's still the same Arthur," Alfred said cheerfully.

"Hold on a minute! How could you just assume that? I could be some kind of stranger that you all decided to harass!" Arthur protested.

"Oh we know it's you Arthur you don't need to hide it," Francis said. "No one else but you calls me a frog and I can think of other reasons why you're Arthur Kirkland if you want to hear them."

"B-but isn't Arthur um…" Matthew said trailed off, standing timidly off to the side, still clutching Kumajirou.

"That's what we all thought too Matthew," Francis said, looking intrigued at Arthur. "So I think we should have some kind of explanation why someone who should have been dead for ten years suddenly came back to life."

Arthur didn't like where this was going. Straight to hell.

"W-who said I would tell you? Besides e-even if I did, you wouldn't believe me," Arthur said, trying for the last bid for freedom.

Francis shook his head. "Non. You are not getting away Arthur. You will tell us and no matter what stories you come up with, we will keep this up until you give us the truth."

Arthur slunk resignedly against the wall looking at each solemn face. Matthew looked like he didn't know what to think and Francis had a frown on his face but otherwise, a neutral expression. He could only take a small glance at Alfred's expression because his eyes held the most conflicting emotions of them all.

"Well? Don't try to run again. We've got you surrounded."

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he looked down at the troublesome Rottweiler and he couldn't help but wail despairingly in his head, _This is entirely your fault._

* * *

**Author's Rambling Section**: I'm going to have a lot of fun with Alfred and Arthur. I find their relationship dynamics to be the most interesting in Hetalia. I like how they're depicted, not as just countries, but as individuals with their own thoughts, reasons and emotions so while the American Revolution was painted as America = good and Britain = bad, with Hetalia, it runs much deeper than just that, it's more complicated. I wish to capture as much as I can about what Alfred and Arthur might feel before, during, and after the break up.

By the way, I originally intended Alfred to spot Arthur working in a daycare center and I thought it would be amusing but I guess it sorta sidetracked and focused on Pasta instead DX


	11. Gute Nacht

* * *

**_Chapter 11:_** Gute Nacht

* * *

"Hey."

Cold. Dark.

"Hey kid."

It's so cold. Hurts. Where am I?

"I know you're alive kid. You're breathing."

Who is that?

Ah the light is too bright. I'll open my eyes slowly then. Oh… The sky… Someone is looking down at me.

"Finally. Hey kid who are you and where're you from?"

Who am I? Where am I from?

A sigh of annoyance.

"You know you were drowning in that river over there right? I was the one who saved your ass. You can thank me later."

Ah is that so?

"What were you doing in there anyway?"

Good question. Why was I drowning in a river?

"Can you at least talk?'

I open my mouth and rasp, "Ja… ich kann... sprechen." My throat hurts and my voice is so strange.

A mild look of surprise.

"Du sprichst Deutsch. Sprichst du Englisch?"

"Ich… denke schon."

"Good. So who are you?"

"Who… am I?"

Who… Who… Who? Name… He means name… But…

"Listen kid I don't really have time for this. I shouldn't have even bothered but whatever."

"I… don't know."

"You don't know? How can you not know?"

Irritation.

"Well then where're you from?"

From…?

"The… river?"

Laughter.

"Oh god kid! Are you pretending to be stupid or something? I mean what place do you live."

"I… don't… know."

"Okay so let me get this straight. You don't know who you are and where you came from?"

"…"

"Well doesn't that suck for you. I'm supposing you need someplace to go now right? Since you don't know who the hell your parents are and shit. I'm telling you now though the place I'm bringing you to isn't exactly rainbows and sunshine. You still wanna go?"

I nod.

He shrugs. "You've signed the devil's contract. Can you sit up?"

I'm still cold and I'm tired but I do so anyway, looking up at the person once I've sat up.

It was a strange boy older than me. He had silver hair that glowed almost white and odd red eyes that were fixed onto me. The moment I met his gaze, I felt so small. He looked so confident and superior in every way. He was so tall.

The Boy nodded in satisfaction and said, "Good now we can go. Unfortunately for you since you can't remember who the hell you are you can only hope your parents come if they can find you at all."

I nodded, understanding before standing up. I lost my balance a few times but I managed to stay up. I looked back up at The Boy and he started walking away, waving his hand for me to follow.

We walk silently with me trailing behind The Boy. We walk through a narrow dirt trail surrounded by tall pine trees, hidden among the bushes and shrubs. The sun was setting, painting the sky orange and yellow and throwing shadows over us as evening set in. The air was cooling and I shivered, trying to keep up with The Boy who was just as wet as I was but giving no sign he was cold.

Finally, we are standing over a small cliff overlooking a large mansion. It was so elegant, with the tall, wide windows and beautiful designs arching the stone. It reached high into the heavens, peacefully watching the setting sun with the appreciation of a wise, old, elderly man reminiscing about his life. The mansion was protected by a short stone wall with iron pikes jutting from it complete with an iron gate guarding it from unwanted things at the front.

The Boy swiftly climbed down the cliff and I carefully followed. When I reached the ground, he led me around the back where the mansion cast its shadow, hiding a hole at the bottom of the crumbling wall which he crawled through.

"Be quiet. We don't want to be noticed especially you since you're new," he whispered as he crouched near the corner of the mansion. He scanned the area and beckoned for me to follow, running to a side door hidden in the shade and jiggling the knob before opening the door a crack. He peeked inside, nodded in satisfaction, and pushed the door wide open, waiting for me to step in before shutting the door.

The room inside was bare, dark, and cold. Nothing adorned it but a single bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. All was silent.

We crept through another doorway and another, never entering before The Boy peeked around, checking and alert for who knows what. The rooms each remained empty, lifeless, and bare.

At the tenth entryway however, upon looking at the room beyond, he instantly backed away. I looked at him curiously. Why did he suddenly back away?

I went up next to him and looked around.

There was a group of boys dressed like The Boy, raggedy long-sleeved shirts, shorts, and black shoes, and they were all surrounding another boy.

I watched as they kicked and spat on the crouched child in their midst and yelling bad words in utter contempt.

Why were they doing this?

Suddenly, a noise, and the circle dispersed, running in the opposite direction.

The Boy slunk even closer to the wall. Why does he look so tense all of a sudden? So I continue to watch as a beautiful, kindly-looking lady in an elegant long red dress glided gracefully across the room towards the injured boy. Surely she will help him.

She knelt down by the boy, put a red-nailed hand on his shoulder and cooed, "Oh you poor thing! Did those mean boys do this to you? How horrible!"

The injured boy looked up at her with gritted teeth and wide eyes. I don't understand. Why? She was so nice to him.

"How barbaric of them! Here, I'll take you upstairs and make you feel all better." Her dark red lips formed a sweet smile before she picked up the boy in her arms as he struggled, clawing at objects to hang on to, and he screamed with tears in his eyes, "No! No! Let me go! Please! Let me go! Help! Help me! No!"

He continued to howl as she went through a set of double doors, his shouts continuing to reverberate, gradually growing fainter and fainter.

I looked back at The Boy. He looked more relaxed than when the Lady came in and picked up the injured boy. Suddenly, he glowered at me, red eyes aflame.

"Newbie, we could have gotten caught. Why didn't you duck like I did?" he demanded.

"Ich verstehe nicht?" I said faintly, afraid of the large, powerful figure standing before me.

"Of course you don't newbie. Do you know why we should stay out of the Queen's way?" he asked bitterly.

I shook my head and he leaned closer and to me, looking so sadistic as he whispered, "Because she and her husband will have a great lot of fun tonight in their bedroom with you if they get their hands on you at this hour if you're not upstairs in your room already."

I trembled.

I don't understand.

"You still don't get it do you?" he asked, chuckling darkly.

No I don't but I know that I don't want to know.

I shook my head slowly, hoping my eyes could tell him I didn't want to hear it. He continued on anyway.

"If they catch you in their little game, they'll rape and torture you. They'll make you wish you were dead or better yet, never born but they'll never give you that pleasure because they'll never kill you and they'll never let you kill yourself."

W-why?

Fear. Horrible, terrible, unadulterated fear surging through my whole body. Heart pounding in fright. W-what place is this?

"Yup this is the place you'll be staying. This is the sanctuary for the ickle lil orphans such as myself unlucky enough to be landed into this fucking hole. Welcome to Hell." The Boy towered over me, his shadow looming over me, his red eyes glowing ruby as he looked down at me, expression looking almost sardonically bitter as he said, "Rule number one. Every man for himself."

~*~

"Oi kid. Get up. Breakfast."

Pale, faint sunlight slithered through a narrow window, faintly illuminating a cramped room comprising of only a small bed, a tiny dresser, and a bare light bulb dangling from the ceiling.

On the wooden floor was a small sleeping child of maybe five or six, huddled under a thin blanket. The child flicked his eyes opened, exposing heavenly blue irises to the new day. He sat up, blinking drowsily at another boy maybe two years older standing over him dressed in a raggedy gray button-up long sleeve, a pair of old brown pants, and those black shoes from the day before.

"Hurry up or else everyone will snatch it all already. Geez be a bit faster here," he said in annoyance.

The little boy immediately scrambled up onto his feet, still dressed in the same black clothes as yesterday, still wet from the water.

"Follow."

The pair ran down a hallway, the older of the two in the lead. They went down some stairs, down another hallway, went through twisting corridors, down another flight of stairs, down a hallway, and made a left turn until they came upon a set of swinging double doors. The Boy pushed them open, revealing a room in total chaos.

The vast room contained five long wooden tables with benches lining both sides, none of which were sat on. Instead, a crowd of children was formed at the very front of the room where a man was standing on a chair with a basket under one arm. The little boy watched as he reached into it and threw what looked like crumbs of bread through the air. The crowd beneath jumped, reaching and grabbing at the small bits of food and devoured them immediately the moment their hands clutched it.

The Boy wasted no time and scurried right into the crowd, leaving the little boy behind, unsure of what to do. Deciding that this must be the breakfast The Boy mentioned, he also hurried toward the group, hoping to find his silver-haired, red-eyed companion.

The children bumped and knocked against him in their bid for the food, giving demeaning glares and threatening looks at others who snatched it before they can. The little boy cowered under their gazes and backed away until he once against stood at the edge where he remained at a lost at what to do until the man boomed, "Sorry no games today so all you little shits will just have to bear being bored."

The little boy at the edge, startled by the loud voice, immediately looked up at the source.

The man was dressed richly in a fine black suit and standing upon that chair, he looked like a great king, proudly taking command of thousands of knights, encouraging and giving words of victory for them to hear. Despite this, however, the little boy felt a nonsensical sense of fear. He looked so intimidating upon that pedestal, just like The Boy except far more sinister.

"Leave," he commanded and the crowd quickly rushed towards the exit, leaving the little boy with no choice but to follow the flow of pushing bodies.

He didn't like it here. He didn't want to stay here. Perhaps there was someplace else he could stay until his parents come for him. Maybe there was a house willing to take him in until then. All he had to do was find the door to the way out.

"Kid if you don't get a move on, the Head will decide to swoop down on you," a voice grunted beside him.

It was The Boy again and he was scowling at him.

"Listen kid, I don't want you hanging around me all the time. You'll slow me down so I'm going to teach you the ropes of this place. If you fuck up, it's not my problem or anyone else's for that matter got it?"

The little boy didn't even get to answer before The Boy spoke again.

"Good. Come on. Let's go outside. Lesson one. The longer and further away you are from this place the better so get the fuck away as much as possible. This place is only for the food and shelter. Wait let me tell you 'bout this place first."

The Boy spoke in a quiet tone, still running through the house, through the maze-like rooms of the huge mansion filled with hiding horrors that the little boy knew were lurking.

"The Head and the Queen like games. They'll set up different 'games' on some days like hide and seek or tag. Every game can go differently but they all end the same. The losers get to spend the night with the Head and Queen. Well if they want to play, the younger people can just escape through that hole but older kids can't escape anymore. They fend for themselves in this place."

The little boy shivered. Condemned to wander these hallways like hunted prey, always careful, always attentive to the slightest shift of shadow or slight sound of the rustle of cloth, glancing around desperately for a way out like how a hostage would look despairingly for help as his captive gets ready to shoot him. It would be a live nightmare with a lot more to lose than a few minutes of sleep. There was no way out.

Finally, they were outside and the little boy gave a small breath of relief, inhaling the scent of grass and the woods. It felt like forever since he last smelled this air instead of the stifling, suffocating air in the house.

They both rounded around the corner and crawled through the hole, climbed up the rocky cliff and into the woods. Surrounded by wildlife and the peaceful murmurs of the trees, The Boy led his small charge to a small meadow, hidden by trees and spotted with bits of sun that managed to reach the ground. A few red flowers grew in patches in the middle of the clearing, vying for the light speckling the ground.

The Boy dropped down under one of the trees, cradled by its roots and leaned back against the trunk. The little boy, uncertain about what to do sat in the grass by one of the patches of flowers.

A silence followed.

"Hey kid. When do you think your parents are going to come?"

The little boy jumped a little at the sudden noise and turned his attention from the flowers to The Boy looking at him with a neutral expression.

"I don't know."

"Well you know I doubt they'll be able to find you," The Boy said. "This place is several miles away from the closest city."

The little boy stared at a tuft of grass in front of him. He did not want to think about what he would do if his parents can't find him. He can't survive staying in the mansion. It was too hard for him, who was so small and helpless and new to the twisted orphanage. It filled him with fright thinking about it, about what his future would look like if he stayed.

The Boy was still watching him as he began to tremble a little.

"What, are you scared?"

The little boy snapped his attention back at the older child, who snorted.

"Being scared won't do shit for you. If your folks can't find you, are you going to stand there and shake like a retard? God you annoy the fuck out of me. At least you have hope that I don't have," The Boy said, glaring. "I hate people who just stand there and cry like dumb fucks when they're scared."

The little boy stared at him with wide eyes before he drifted back towards the red flowers.

The Boy seemed angry. He didn't want to face him because he was too ashamed to but what he said was true. He did have a ray of hope that someone from his family would come to pick him up but The Boy had no one. He was alone and abandoned in the dreary mansion with no one to turn to and no hope that anyone would come to the lonely orphanage in the middle of the wilderness. If the little boy's parents don't come after all, then he would have to learn to survive. The Boy was right. Just standing there and crying won't help matters. The Boy had been here longer than he has so he could only imagine what horror he would have to go through while The Boy had already experienced it.

The little boy plucked a few flowers, collecting them into a small bundle in his hand. He heard The Boy get up and walk over to him before he felt an abrupt explosion of pain in his side. He tumbled in the grass where he remained laying on his uninjured side.

"Picking flowers? What are you a girl?" The Boy sneered.

The little boy got up on all fours, wincing at the pain and crawled to the fallen flowers and began picking them up.

"Tch. You pussy. I hate you. You have no idea what it's like to live in there and you're fucking picking flowers like the naïve shit you are! I fucking hate you! I wish I'd just let you drown in that fucking river!" The Boy screamed, stomping his foot on one of the little boy's hands with a small, sickening crunch.

The little boy in turn let out a small cry, tears of pain gathering at the corners of his eyes.

No he won't cry! He cannot cry! He will be as strong as The Boy Who Survived and he will live in that mansion with no complaints and no tears until he finds an opportunity to escape whether in the form of family or otherwise. He will thrive and suffer through this just like The Boy did until that chance appears.

The little boy slowly raised his shaking left hand holding the flowers and offered them to The Boy.

"I'm sorry."

The Boy stared at the plants then looked back down at the little boy. He didn't move for a few moments, just looking before he slowly retracted his foot and gingerly took the flowers.

"You're still a naïve piece of shit," he muttered disgustedly, turning his back, crushing and dumping the flowers back on the ground. "But I'll help you change that."

He looked back at the little boy, watching him curiously with those big, blue, infinite eyes. He looked back down at the flowers on the ground and turned fully back around.

"Ludwig. Your name's Ludwig got it? Why? Because I said so. Remember your name this time."

The little boy, now renamed Ludwig, nodded.

"Good. I'm Gilbert. Remember that too because I'm going to give you a tour of Hell."

Ludwig nodded once again.

"Now get up. It's almost time for lunch."

Without hesitance, Ludwig obediently got up to follow Gilbert back to the living nightmare of the orphanage.

* * *

Translations:

Gute nacht - Good night

Ich kann sprechen – I can speak

Du sprichst Deutsch. Sprichst du Englisch? – You speak German. Do you speak English?

Ich denke schon – I think so

Ich verstehe nicht – I don't understand

Author's rambling section: As usual, I used the all-knowing online dictionary for these phrases and of course, I don't suspect them to be one-hundred percent perfect but I tried anyway by running the English sentences through several translators but the Internet isn't perfect. If you know the correct way to translate the English phrases, by all means, tell me and I'll be more than happy to change 'em

And now for my usual nonsense. You know, there's this bit of thought that is totally random and off-topic from this chapter (or this story for that matter) that I've been thinking of for a while. You know how in some fics, Arthur or Alfred find some old photos from when Alfred was young and stuff before the Revolutionary War and they look and reminisce? Well I find it kind of amusing how they can find old photos when the camera wasn't even invented back then XD Yeah it's a bit stupid but it's just kinda funny for me.


	12. Now Hiring

**A/N:** Wow. I did _not_ mean to be absent for so long but stupid college stuff got in the way -.-

Thanks to Moonlight-is-Innocence for the German corrections on the last chapter!

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**_Chapter 12:_** Now Hiring

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Francis said slowly, summarizing the information Arthur had just fed Matthew, Alfred, and him. "You are an angel who is sent here to look over one of the guardian angels in this area whom you are in charge of and to find this demon who is going around stealing souls from all over the world."

"Yes," Arthur confirmed again.

The party of three standing across from Arthur exchanged looks before Alfred bluntly said, "Yeah right."

Arthur growled and said through gritted teeth, "I'm telling the truth. What more do you want? If you don't believe me, that's obviously your problem. Now can I go? I have things to do."

He was tired of retelling the same thing over and over for the last half an hour, sitting on a cold, hard, bench with a bunch of idiots standing around him and interrogating him like a criminal. Well maybe not Matthew, who was always sweet and quiet, but the other two eroded his patience.

"It doesn't matter how many times you ask me. I'm going to say the same thing every time so if you're smart, you'd get the hint," Arthur said, scowling.

"I think we should let him go now," Matthew said timidly but was promptly ignored by the other two.

"Maybe we got the wrong guy after all but we should definitely get him to an asylum," Alfred said to Francis, jabbing a thumb in Arthur's direction.

"I'm not crazy you twit! I'm perfectly sane!" Arthur screamed indignantly. "What other explanation do you want? Is it any better if I told you I came back to life as a zombie or ghost? Or why don't I tell you how I survived that car crash and walked out of the hospital, laughing to myself how stupid I made you all look?"

Silence.

Arthur knew he was treading on a taboo topic but he also knew he wouldn't get anywhere unless he hit where it hurts: the fact that he's dead and came back to life and the fact that turning into an angel is the only explanation there could be no matter how unbelievable it is.

Francis gave a small cough to ease a bit of the sudden quiet and said, "Well then if what you are saying is true, then demonstrate some magic. Surely if you are an angel, you are able to do that."

Arthur crossed his arms and huffed. "Of course I can but that incredibly powerful demon might be residing here and if I use any magic, I might be instantly detected. I won't use any magic unless it's absolutely necessary. That means I won't give you a private performance just because you want me to."

"Private performance? I don't mind a private performance," Francis said suggestively.

"Arsehole," Arthur muttered in disgust but inside, he was relieved. If Francis could act like his idiotic self again, then everything was okay. This time.

The atmosphere was noticeably less tense and Alfred managed his old goofy grin again.

"Tsk tsk tsk. Still as cold as ever I see. Ah I've missed my little delicate princess while he was gone," Francis said overdramatically, dodging skillfully when Arthur's foot flew up to kick him.

"Can I go now? I haven't had lunch and if I have to look at your face any longer, I'm afraid I'm going to get arrested for justified murder," Arthur said, standing up.

"Lunch? Why don't we go to this great burger joint I found?" Alfred interjected energetically.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" Arthur retorted coolly.

"Oh don't worry. They've managed by themselves for years so it doesn't matter if I'm gone one more day," Alfred said carelessly.

Arthur gave a shocked look before looking down at his watch. It was three forty-five.

"Skipping out on work? Why are you skipping out on work? And bringing Matthew along with you! Don't make your brother walk down the same path you did," he berated loudly.

"Hey, hey calm down," Alfred said, a bit put off by the sudden burst. "Matthew's off a little early today and everything's done on my side so what's it matter if I skip out the last forty-five minutes?"

"What about me? Aren't you going to ask me why I'm out of work too?" Francis asked in mock hurt.

"I'm not even going to grace you with an answer," Arthur replied shortly before turning back to Alfred. "You're going back."

"But it's almost the end of the workday," Alfred whined.

"No! We are going back _now_! Matthew can you please guide me to his workplace so I can put him back where he belongs," Arthur asked a startled Matthew, too used to being left out.

"O-okay," he timidly replied.

"Come on," Arthur said sternly, gripping the protesting American tightly and tugging him along, following Matthew as he hastily retreated back to the office.

Francis sighed, smiled a little before hurrying to catch up with the party in front of him.

~*~

Alfred grumbled as Arthur continued to pull him through the maze-like office. People milling around stopped everything they were doing and stared as the green-eyed man plowed through with their manager in his clutches.

The people stared and mouthed, "Oh my god." Coffee was spilt, paperwork dropped, and a loud thump resounded.

"H-here's Alfred's office," Matthew said nervously, smiling weakly. "I'll just be going now." And he ducked away embarrassedly from the crowd of people with their attention focused on the two people standing in front of the door.

Alfred pouted and crossed his arms childishly, looking away once Arthur let him go.

"Stop being such a child and get your arse in there and do your work," said the British man irately.

"I'm already done with all my work. I have nothing else to do here," Alfred replied stubbornly.

"Alfred Franklin Jones! You get in this room right now and finish whatever you have to do or so help me god I will finish _you_ off," Arthur bellowed.

The two men had a brief glare-off but Arthur had acquired the superior skill through his many years of dealing with idiots and hooligans so the defeated Alfred slinked back into his office in defeat, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

"And you'd better stop sulking in that chair and pick up that pen right now and start finishing your work!"

A thump could be heard then the noise of hasty scrabbling.

Silence draped heavily over the office.

The seconds ticked by and when Arthur was satisfied that Alfred won't sneak out of the room he was imprisoned in, he turned to leave when a young woman approached him slowly, almost reverently, from the crowd.

Arthur raised a brow when she started trembling, looking up at him in wonder, her eyes big and wide before she suddenly clung onto his arm, making him jump.

"Oh my god please quit your job and work here!" she wailed loudly.

Arthur sputtered and tried to shake her off his arm but to no avail. An awkward cough sounded somewhere from the mess of people and a man briskly stepped out of the ring around the Brit and tugged her away, rejoining the crowd.

"What's going on here?" a voice asked, sounding across the crowd. The people parted a bit for Ludwig and he entered the scene, looking with surprise at Arthur.

"Good afternoon Arthur. May I ask what you're doing here?" he asked.

"Oh? Arthur's here?" came a second more perky voice and Veneziano popped out from behind the tall German man. Upon catching sight of the Brit, he beamed and waved cheerfully.

"Hello Ludwig, Veneziano. I was just on my way out," Arthur greeted politely.

"I see. Then why is there a crowd in front of Alfred's door?" Ludwig questioned.

"Because he managed to drag Mr. Jones back into the office!" a voice shouted from the crowd.

Ludwig snapped his head and looked at Arthur in astonishment. "No one has been able to make him come back into the office," he said in amazement.

"Well I did. I'm sorry for all the trouble he's caused everyone. He can be quite good at dodging work. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go now."

Before Arthur could leave however, a certain Frenchman blocked his path.

"What's the rush dear Arthur? Surely you could stay a little while longer and perhaps join me in conversation," he said as he put an arm around Arthur's shoulders.

Arthur simply pushed Francis's arm away and curtly said, "No thanks."

"Oh come now Arthur don't be like that," Francis chided. "We simply want you to stay a little longer to keep an eye in case Alfred slips away again. I think everyone agrees with me on this and in fact, I'd think everyone would want you to work here now just to help handle Alfred."

"I have other things to do," Arthur said impatiently but his irritated demeanor took on a more cautious one as he glimpsed a brief glint in Francis's eye.

"Why don't you just work here to keep him from getting into anymore trouble?" Francis suggested almost deviously. "I'm sure every single person here would do anything for you."

"Wha—" was all Arthur could utter before almost half the office practically sank down on their knees some begging and others wailing pleads for him to stay. The poor Briton could only stand there, stunned and embarrassed as they almost worshipped him.

"All right that's enough," Ludwig barked. "Get back to work now."

There were collective groans and a whole deal of sulking as the workers went back to what they were previously doing, dragging their feet with their head down.

"Is… this how they usually act?" Arthur asked, still surprised at the unusual and unprofessional behavior of the people.

"Unfortunately yes," Ludwig muttered resignedly.

"I sympathize with you for I know what it's like to be in charge of immature people," Arthur said, giving a sidelong look at Francis as he spoke.

Veneziano looked disappointed. "You're leaving already?"

"Yes I am and… I ah, apologize again for any damages Alfred might have done."

Ludwig nodded. "It's okay… We're pretty much used to it. I hope to see you again Arthur. Let's go Veneziano."

The Italian gave a quick good-bye and trailed after Ludwig, rounding a corner and disappearing.

Arthur started to move too but stopped at the Francis's voice.

"Poor naïve Arthur. Did you really think we'd let you leave this easily?" he purred.

Arthur sighed and rolled his bright verdant eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."

But as he found out a few seconds later as he was held down in a swivel chair, Francis was right. These people were actually crazy enough to do it.

He immediately started to struggle and shout obscenities when Francis glided up to him with a clipboard, a pen, and a huge grin on his face.

"Don't you dare," Arthur growled, eyes glinting warningly as he realized what the clipboard held for him but Francis paid no heed.

"Francis don't you fucking dare!"

Francis, however, simply stood beside the wildly struggling Arthur and crouched a little so he could see over his shoulder. He took the Brit's hand and forced the pen into unwilling fingers. Francis then proceeded to painstakingly slowly move Arthur's hand, heedless of the threats that he would most likely fulfill once he was free.

There was a sudden loud crack and every occupant in the room suddenly stilled and looked up slowly at a dangerous looking Swiss holding a smoking pistol. He reloaded the gun slowly and deliberately before finally cocking his gun with a clear, sharp click that resonated through the office.

No words needed to be said.

The employees immediately released Arthur and allowed him to stand, which he did so.

"Everyone get back to your work stations before I blow all your asses up," Vash threatened and the crowd of people magically vanished.

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you Mr…"

"Zwingli," Vash filled in, shaking Arthur's hand.

"Thank you Mr. Zwingli," he said with a smile then turned to leave but was again intercepted from his exit, much to the irk of Arthur, by a Chinese man who excitedly held a bunch of papers in hands with Francis trailing behind him.

"I hear you wanted to work here aru? Why don't we get started on your interview?" he said animatedly and dragged Arthur away who sputtered in confusion. Francis happily waved and called after him, "Good luck with your job interview!"

"Damn frooooooooog!"

~*~

The newly employed Arthur sat grumpily with his legs and arms crossed, scowling heavily, trying to unleash his inner psychic power to make the wall spontaneously combust. Or melt. Either one works.

"You should get to know the office better."

"No."

"Don't be so stubborn Arthur. Why don't you want to work here?"

"I already told you! I can't afford to stay here idly for hours! I have a bloody demon to go after!"

"…"

"What?"

"Oh nothing. Just thinking how much you didn't sound like a lunatic."

"Oh Francis! You could have just told me if you want another cracked rib."

A grimace.

"No thanks."

"Good."

Arthur huffed and a silence enveloped them both with only the sound of typing to break it when Veneziano and Ludwig walked up to him.

"Hello Arthur! Ludwig and I are going home now and we're wondering if you want to come with us!" he said in his usual cheerful way.

The Brit just shook his head. "No thanks Veneziano," he sighed.

"Are you sure?" he asked, casting a concerned look at him.

"Yes. Thank you for the offer though."

Veneziano nodded and slowly walked away but Ludwig stayed. When he saw that Arthur was now paying full attention to him, he voiced his unasked question albeit in a lower voice so that Francis can't overhear. "I know Veneziano is under your care so why is it that you are so reluctant to work here? Won't it be easier to look after him this way?"

Arthur shook his head. "No. I trust you and Gilbert on his safety. What I'm more concerned about is finding clues to the demon and I can't exactly freely move if I'm confined to a job."

"I see…"

"Listen, Ludwig," Arthur said in a low voice. "If you, heaven forbid, encounter the demon or any of his underlings, don't try to fight them. Run as far as you can. I will be able to sense Veneziano is in danger and I should be at the site within, at the most, ten minutes."

Ludwig nodded in understanding, said a small good evening and joined with waiting Italian and his brother, finally exiting the building.

Silence reigned over again.

Sudden darkness.

"What in the…"

"Guess who?"

Arthur sighed, calming down and said in monotone, "Alfred, you're too old for this."

Alfred let Arthur go and shrugged. "Doesn't matter as long as you have fun. Better than being a stuffy old man."

"I am not 'stuffy.' I'm just more responsible than you are!" Arthur shot back.

"Sure excuses," Alfred said heedlessly. "Say. Do you have a place to stay? Doesn't seem like you had a job or anything."

"I do."

"How?" the American prompted.

"You wouldn't believe me," Arthur grumbled, glaring at Francis who was grinning at him for no reason. God he pissed him off. So. Much.

"Come on. It can't be that bad!"

"Heaven pulled a few strings okay?" he finally growled out.

"Sure it did."

"I'm leaving now," Arthur said, abruptly getting up.

"Hey okay I'm sorry. I promise I won't make fun of you anymore!" Alfred called after him as he stalked into the waiting elevator. He groaned a little as he watched the shiny doors close, concealing the annoyed Arthur from view.

"You make a good first impression," Francis commented, laughing a little. Alfred shot him a look and dropped down onto the recently abandoned chair, propping his feet up on the desk and twirling a pencil between his fingers.

"Yeah and hitting on him is any better," he said, rolling his eyes. "Man, I can't believe he made me go back there. I forgot how overbearing he can be."

Francis hummed in response. "Yes he is exactly as I remembered him to be."

"Yeah… Like he was before," Alfred said almost distractedly. He turned his head and looked at Francis sitting next to him.

"Do you think I'll be able to make up with him?" he asked softly.

Francis stopped typing and turned to look at Alfred, assessing him with clear blue eyes. "I think, Alfred, only you can answer that. Arthur, I'm sure, misses you too but he will have guarded his feelings. If you are truthful, I'm sure Arthur will be too."

Alfred nodded slowly before asking loudly in complaint, "What does being honest have to do with anything?"

The Frenchman was a second away from slamming his head on his desk when Alfred spoke again.

"Well I know you're saying it depends on me but what am I supposed to be truthful about?" he elaborated then shot Francis a small glare. "If you don't know the answer, then you could have just said so."

"If you didn't understand what I'm talking about then there's no point of explaining," the other blonde said hopelessly.

"Yeah… You don't know what you're talking about. Well I'm going to leave now! Have fun working overtime!" Alfred said brightly, patting Francis roughly on the back before leaving.

The older man stared after him and mumbled to himself, "That boy's going to go through a world of pain." He shook his head and returned to work.

~*~

Friday finally rolled around bringing with it a wave of sluggishness that settled over the whole office. No matter how many cups of coffee anyone consumed (the Record Breaker of the Day being seventeen), an air of lethargy still hung over the heads of everyone.

Today was the day of the weekly meeting and therefore, Arthur's first time participating in such a meeting. Judging from the few days he had spent working in the office and the languid atmosphere, he anticipated nothing will get done.

Fifteen minutes in, Arthur's prediction proved correct. Nothing was getting done but what he hadn't predicted was the growing headache behind his temples and a sour mood.

_I've been a fool to think this bunch of people would ever be composed enough to get anything done_, Arthur mourned in his head. What were they talking about again? Oh yeah. A shooting range like the old fashioned Western saloons for some kind of fair.

"No way aru! Where are we going to get a shooting range like that? And what about the damages aru?" Yao rejected vehemently.

"Don't worry we'll just not miss."

"There's something wrong with you aru!" Yao declared.

Why were they discussing activities for a game?

"Whatever's not connected in his head, I think we should have a shoot range anyway because _one of us is too god damn trigger happy_," Gilbert said loudly, leaning his chair back.

Vash gave him a withering look but otherwise did nothing.

"I think we should invite important people to participate," Tino said, attention distracted by the small white dog in his lap. As always, Berwald hovered over him like a hawk.

During the commotion his suggestion provoked, Alfred glanced over to where his former foster brother/father sat and saw him sitting with a disgruntled expression and crossed arms.

Well that won't do. Arthur wasn't enjoying himself. What can he do about it? Hmm… Well, Francis did say to be 'truthful' or whatever so he'll just make Arthur speak out his mind more. Maybe if he did that, he'll be more ready to share his thoughts and if he's more ready to share, they'll make up easier and all's good. They'll be best of buddies again. Yeah. Foolproof.

"Hey Arthur! What d'ya think?"

"This is ridiculously unprofessional and stupid that's what I think. How about we not do this?" said Arthur in frustration.

"I disagree with you," retaliated Francis, waving the comment away dismissively.

Arthur sputtered and floundered a bit before finally managing out, "You actually think this is a _good_ idea?"

"No but I just decided to disagree with you," Francis said flippantly.

"So you disagree with me just to disagree with me." Arthur growled, narrowing his eyes at his least favorite person.

"That's right," the Frenchman confirmed.

"You're as stupid as this idea!" Arthur exclaimed exasperated.

"Then why don't you come up with something if you dislike it so much?"

"Well for someone as… flamboyant as you, you're awfully uncreative because you're not suggesting anything either!"

"Ha! I have more creativity than you will ever hope to dream of," sniffed Francis, staring down at Arthur sitting across from him. The Briton only snorted, unimpressed.

"No, I'm fairly certain my dreams are more creative than any legible thoughts that might blow through your empty head."

"Well then I suppose your little magical fairies and unicorns can contribute an idea. Oh mais attendez! They're not real!"

From past experience with Francis and Arthur's arguments, Matthew and Alfred instantly recognized the warning signs of an oncoming tornado and they shrunk as far as possible down in their seats, practically kneeling on the floor.

Oh it. Was. _On_.

"Well at least they're not a waste of space and oxygen!"

"At least I'm not a walking cooking failure!"

"Wine obsessed bastard!"

"Tea lunatic!"

"Telephone pole molester!"

"Eyebrows!"

"Jackass!"

"Fairy!"

"Wanker!"

"Chiant!"

"French!"

"Anglais!"

With that said, a snarling Arthur lunged at Francis from across the table and thus the fight began. Everyone, startled by the sudden act of violence, stared, gawked, or cheered at the spectacle.

A few seconds later, an excited Yukimo burst through the door waving a wad of papers in her hand.

"Hey guys I have some… um… news…" she trailed off, staring at Francis who was straddling Arthur.

"I see. So that's what's _really_ going on in here huh?" she said with a blank expression.

Francis quickly scrambled off of an angry/embarrassed Arthur who was red in the face.

"We aren't doing anything inappropriate. Especially with this French bastard," Arthur said through gritted teeth, elbowing Francis in the chest.

"Riiiiight. So anyway… um… what was I here for again?" Yukimo asked, running her hand through her hair distractedly.

"You had news to tell us," Ludwig provided helpfully.

Yukimo perked up again and stopped combing through her black tresses with her fingers. "Oh yeah! News." She looked down at the wad of papers in her hand and continued. "Well it seems that a very important company president is going to come visit us next Wednesday to check out Muse Laptop Co. and perhaps agree to a partnership. Our CEO wants to make sure everyone is well prepared for this event and he doesn't want us to screw up. There's also a message to Vice President Yao which reads as follows: 'Fire anyone who messes up even if it's the entire office.' And I think that's it."

A burst of conversation burst forth including, "How exciting," and "What's the best place to stuff Alfred so he won't get in the way?"

"I see aru. How troublesome," Yao sighed. "Did you tell the whole office already aru?"

Yukimo grinned broadly and replied, "Yep! Paperboy style."

"Thanks aru."

"No sweat! I'll get out of your hair now so you can continue ah… whatever you were doing." And she left with a storm of giggles.

A long silence followed.

"We're so screwed."

And everyone can't help but to agree with the awesome Gilbert.

* * *

**Translations:**

Chiant - Boring

Mais attendez - But wait

**Author's Rambling Section:** Gee I wonder who it could possibly be that visits the company!

Ahem anyway moving on to my random rant of the month. There's something that bugs me. You know how sometimes, authors of stories would insert little Japanese phrases? Well normally this would be okay and it's really no problem but I frequently see countries other than Kiku _speak Japanese_. I've seen stories where Arthur and Feliciano speaks Japanese words or phrases and well it bugs me because _that's not their native language_. The creator of Hetalia is Japanese and of course he would incorporate his native language to various things such as France nii-chan but it seems a little weird if Feliciano says it in stories because he is Italian. This isn't such a big deal but it sorta bothers me.

And as always, if there's a problem with any translations, feel free to correct me. Bai!


	13. Doomsday

**A/N:** Hey happy holidays everyone! No, I didn't write a Christmas special although I initially intended to but then I thought that it would be totally off-topic and random if I put a special smack in the middle of the story so I decided to just update. I'm sure that's a much better Christmas present I mean seriously, the mistletoe idea is cliché, the fireplace and hot cocoa is too overused, the Christmas havoc is too common, the race for a gift is trite, and the cuddly, fluffy, warm-you-up-because-it's-cold idea is exhausted. I figured if you guys really wanted to read about this stuff, you'd only have to flip a few pages of your memories or read the couple other hundred stories with the same idea. So yeah.

To **Crystal Kira** who asked me to respond (a month too late probably DX): Yes I did have a lot of fun with that fight scene between Arthur and Francis. I hope to work on another one heheheheh.... Ahem well anyway, yes poor little Feli was murdered in Edelstein manor but... who indeed did murder him I wonder... As for Ivan... huh... You're right. I can't seem to find him anywhere D: Perhaps he's in -pzzzzzzt-

A special thanks to **PastaWar19** for taking your time off to review all my chapters. Much appreciated!

* * *

**_Chapter 13:_** Doomsday

* * *

Finally. It's The Day. Doomsday.

The office was even _more_ hectic than usual today, if that was possible, to prepare for the arrival of some big shot president to prevent getting their asses fired both literally and figuratively. With Vash watching over the whole place like a hawk and the threat of going through the pain of finding a new job dangling over their heads, the employees decided too much was at stake to mess up.

"It can't be that hard to act normal can it?" Ludwig asked under his breath as he helped one of the men move his marble collection into the kitchen to stuff into the cupboards. Then again, this office wasn't exactly in its right mind to begin with so being "normal" meant being crazy.

"Everyone listen up, aru!" Yao called over the din and continued when he was sure everyone's attention was on him. "I will be guiding Mr. Langdon through the office very soon. To make sure everyone absolutely knows what will transpire, I will go over what will happen today again, aru. I will be taking Mr. Langdon through the design branch and manufacture branch first. This should take about maybe two hours. When I'm about to get here, I'm going to send Toris with a note warning everyone we're coming. When I arrive, everyone will be at their desks, working and not faking it." Here he shot a look at Gilbert who looked around at the surrounding people innocently. "I will introduce him to Alfred, who will behave respectfully, give him another short tour and leave. Simple, aru."

"Simple he says," Francis sighed. "After all these years working here, doesn't he know that such a word doesn't exist?"

"That was the first impression I got when I first stepped foot in this office. I knew everything was loony here. Especially Alfred. I've been assigned to be his assistant for the day to prevent him from doing something stupid," Arthur said dryly, glancing at Alfred a little ways in front of him with Matthew. He was wearing a perfectly pressed black suit and his hair was neatly fixed courtesy of the Briton but the blue-eyed man wasn't very happy. Stupid Arthur wouldn't allow him to wear his favorite American flag tie or let him eat his hamburger.

So Yao was going to give the tour. Interesting but that seemed a little odd.

"Hey Francis," Arthur said suddenly, "Why is the vice president giving the tour? Shouldn't the CEO at least come with such important company?"

"Ah so you've noticed. Well I guess it's no big deal but truthfully, no one's ever seen the president himself. Not even Yao. We're not even sure what his real name is but he goes by Mr. Edgar. I believe it was because of security reasons that he refuses to reveal himself."

Arthur gaped at him for a few seconds before snapping out of it. "And you're perfectly fine not knowing who owns this company? For all you know, he could be involved with drug trafficking!"

Francis just shook his head. "No there's nothing like that going on, trust me."

Arthur decided to drop the subject, no matter how uneasy he felt working under an unknown employer.

"Alright everyone commence work! And don't mess up, aru! The president seems pretty serious about this visit, aru."

As soon as those words left Yao's mouth, everyone immediately continued to scramble around for last-minute touch-ups.

"Arthur, can you watch Alfred while I'm gone, aru?" Yao asked, already fast walking to the elevators.

"Not like I have a choice now anyway," Arthur muttered, turning to Alfred who was busy complaining to a patiently listening Matthew. He sighed and walked over to the incompetent manager.

"Hello Arthur. Are you ready for today?" Matthew asked politely as Arthur approached.

"I'm more than ready. I'm not so sure about Alfred, however. You need to keep your act together," he said, turning pointedly to look at Alfred.

Alfred scoffed, his expression lighting up into a confident smile. "Of course I'm ready! Heroes are always ready!" he proclaimed loudly.

Arthur just gave him a look. "You see? This is the kind of behavior that gives you less than favorable reputation around here. I don't blame anyone in this room for assigning me as your 'assistant.'"

"Hey I can get along just fine! How do you think I made it through as manager all these years without getting fired?" the American said, a bit miffed at Arthur's skepticism about his abilities.

"Dumb luck and Dilbert's Principle."

"Aw c'mon Artie, you gotta give me more credit. Geez."

Arthur grimaced at the pet name. "Don't call me Artie," he hissed. "Anyway, we need to clean out your garbage dump in time for Mr. Langdon."

"Hey! My office isn't a garbage dump! I clean it out when I have the time," Alfred protested.

"I'm sure whenever you have the time, you're slipping away from work, not cleaning," Arthur said in a clipped tone. "Anyway, we can't hold Matthew up. I'm sure he has some things to finish and so do we now let's go. Have a nice day Matthew." He nodded to the quieter brother, who returned the good-bye and dragged a protesting Alfred away by the arm.

~*~

The whole office was drenched with a sense of foreboding so tangible it seemed to rain down on all the employees. The atmosphere was tense and a slight nervous energy crackled through the air like lightning. Short shaky laughter ran among the few people who were brave enough to dawdle for five seconds. The torture of anticipation was reaching its climax as the two hours slowly drew nearer and nearer until finally, a soft ping from the elevator alerted everyone of Toris's arrival. No one wasted time busying themselves or at least making themselves look busy as they hastily took calls, stared at their computer screens or scribbling frantically on papers. Arthur was no different from the frantic masses except he was even antsier than the group if that was even possible.

"But Arthur I need that watch! It's special! Please Arthur? Please?" Alfred begged desperately.

"No Alfred. Your watch can wait. Take care of your business first," said Arthur, expression darkening by the second.

"Yeah and my business is finding my watch and if I don't have it, then I'm going to leave," the American said stubbornly.

Arthur narrowed his eyes and growled. "You wouldn't dare."

Alfred just stuck out his tongue. "Watch me."

Arthur sputtered with outrage, turning red with anger. Alfred was serious about his watch and Arthur didn't think he'd have the physical prowess to stop him if he decided to leave right then and there. He knew he had to do what Alfred says and this frustrated him to no end. He would have to find the god forsaken watch or else everything would be ruined.

"Alfred, you had better hope I find your watch on time for Mr. Langdon's arrival or else I'm going to leave it on the ground for it to get trampled or stolen," Arthur howled at the manager, storming through the crowd of people in search of the missing gadget.

He zigzagged through almost the entire office, looking beneath desks and chairs and asking some people whether they have seen a watch on the floor to which they always responded with a negative. He searched almost desperately, his anxiousness and ire building up with every second that passed. How did Alfred manage to lose his watch anyway if the dunce was wearing it? Arthur suspected that Alfred didn't lose his watch at all but said he did to get him out of his hair. He felt like screaming and strangling the incompetent American but he was left with no choice so he bottled it up for now and continued scouring the gray carpet. Alfred had said he might have dropped it near the potted plant sitting by the window.

Arthur grumbled as he felt around for the watch near the only calm living thing in the whole entire office. He's so irritated at how irresponsible Alfred had become. What the hell had he been doing all these years to become such a slob?

He had finally found the watch in the plant, heaven knows how it got there, when suddenly, a ping resounded like a death bell and for a second, everyone stood still. They watched with bated breath as the shiny, mirror-like doors slid open, slowing down slightly to try to catch sight of the person who will step out of the contraption. Arthur quickly straightened himself up, also curious as to whom it could be on the other side of the door.

Yao walked out first, his posture straight and a slight smile playing on his face. He then stepped aside respectfully to allow the two people standing behind him to come out.

"Welcome to our main profit branch of Muse Laptop Co., aru," he addressed the tall figure and a woman standing beside him.

"Ah so this is the profit branch huh? Seems very active," Mr. Langdon stated, his russet eyes crinkling merrily and giving a glorious beam around his new environment.

"It does seem very busy here. I hope we are not intruding," the woman said, stroking her long red hair, her dark eyes darting around to follow the movements of various people, jumping from one person to another.

"No of course not, aru! It makes no difference to us. We welcome you to our office greatly!" Yao quickly assured and the woman nodded and seemed to calm down a little although she moved from her hair to fiddling with her oval glasses sitting upon her narrow nose.

Arthur noted how they deviated from how business people were normally supposed to look. While they both wore suits, as was proper for anyone working in a corporation, they still seemed to sport certain quirks. It struck Arthur how much of an oddball Mr. Langdon looked among the sea of proper gentlemen and ladies that swarmed around him. He seemed like a man who didn't care much for formal, going more for casual as his more or less rumpled clothes and goldfish tie would attest to. His posture was slightly slouched and his hands were hidden in the pockets of his leather jacket. The woman next to him seemed normal but a closer observation would reveal that every time something even remotely bird-shaped appeared, she would start twitching and staring, as if she really wanted to grab it. She also had a habit of fidgeting, her hands never seemed to cease motion, which was vaguely strange because she didn't seem nervous. Perhaps she just doesn't know what to do with her hands.

Having finished his evaluation on the newcomers, Arthur turned to leave when something faint seemed to touch his consciousness. It started tugging at his mind until he felt a pulse of energy moving through him. A flow of power moved through him and he shivered, his heartbeat speeding up. He froze, watch in hand, looking around in bewilderment as the crowd continued their business, a soft murmur of conversation hanging in the air. Everything seemed normal. An alarm was going off in his head. This sensation… it was the sign of the presence of a demon.

He carefully scanned the crowd, trying to concentrate on the energy that seemed to come from everywhere at once. He had a vague sense of the energy flow though. It was going either from the back to the front or…

Arthur glanced at Mr. Langdon who was talking to Yao. It seems the energy is subtly swirling around him before dispersing into the air again.

It would seem it was Mr. Langdon who was releasing the energy but in order to disperse energy like this, the demon would have to have been slowly trickling his power throughout the day and then suddenly allow one short burst to be released to create a domino effect, triggering something like a wave and activating the energy already in the surrounding. Mr. Langdon wasn't the one emitting but someone else who was in the office for the whole morning, which was practically everyone except Toris and Yao.

Arthur's contemplation was broken, however, when Yao started to lead the small group through the office. Deciding to think about this matter later, he tucked everything in the back of his mind and quickly made his way back toward Alfred's office.

~*~

"And this is the manager of the profit branch, Mr. Jones, aru. Mr. Jones, this is Mr. Langdon."

Alfred arose from his chair with a charming smile on his face upon the president's arrival.

"Good afternoon Mr. Langdon. How are you today?" he greeted, shaking hands with Mr. Langdon.

"I'm fine, I'm fine! This office has just the right kind of people to make any day a good one! Lots of hard-working people here! Such admirably classic examples of the average working class trying to support their family and themselves. I like it!" He gave a short jovial laugh and Alfred's face lit up like a thousand watt bulb.

"I'm glad you find our employees hardworking Mr. Langdon because they are! Oh, I would like to introduce you to my assistant, Mr. Kirkland," Alfred introduced, gesturing towards Arthur standing beside him.

"How do you do Mr. Langdon?" Arthur asked courteously with a smile, shaking the other's hand. He noted how calloused it was and how roughly his hand was being shaken, speaking of Mr. Langdon's ruggedness that normal businessmen usually wouldn't have. He had probably worked in another hands-on field before business. The experience Mr. Langdon received as he worked in that field probably helped him develop an inner toughness, a feature that is very crucial in the coldness of the business world

"I'm excellent! It's wonderful to meet you Mr. Kirkland. This here beside me is my vice president, Ms. Bell."

"It's wonderful to meet you," she said, shaking Arthur and Alfred's hand in turn. Ms. Bell's hand was rather dainty and soft and moved with smooth yet firm motions, contrasting to Mr. Langdon's rough way of greeting. Arthur guessed she probably never experienced the hardness of manual labor in her life. She may be quiet on the outside but she would probably be more than capable of standing up for herself.

"So Mr. Jones, what can you tell me about your job and about this branch in general? Mr. Wang has already informed me of a lot of things but maybe you can tell me some things from your own perspective."

"Oh no Mr. Langdon. I'm not going to tell you anything. Even better, I'm going to show you. This office has a lot of history and a lot of people who hold this place together so it's only fair for me to introduce them to you."

"Oh that's good! I love a good discussion with company employees," Mr. Langdon agreed.

Alfred moved towards the door and opened it for the occupants.

"Well then, I'm sure you'll love the individuals I'm about to introduce you to because they'll definitely blow your mind."

~*~

Arthur had to admit, Alfred was surprisingly good at this. He remained friendly and didn't act out of line at all. He also proved to be pretty clever because all of the employees he took Mr. Langdon to see were optimistic and talkative yet efficient workers such as Francis (as much as he hated to admit he was even decently reliable) and Yukimo. By doing this, Mr. Langdon would get the overall impression that everyone in the office was a fun group of people who like what they do and at the same time, very responsible and mature.

Arthur had to wonder why he was even assigned to be his assistant. Alfred was clearly doing a good job and he clearly had some kind of past experience with this so why was he taken along for the ride? But there was something bigger to worry about at the moment. The energy that had been there since morning still remained stagnant in the air and they were still swirling around Mr. Langdon as he moved.

Arthur had kept himself alert the whole time, inconspicuously glancing over constantly at the people around to try to at least locate a source or a clump of energy but he knew it was useless. Everything was already spread out and the most he could hope for was to try to stop any attacks towards Mr. Langdon if any came his way. Of course, two questions presented themselves in this kind of situation.

The first, and most obvious question, who is the demon? Secondly, why did it choose to surround Mr. Langdon with its energy?

There were several answers for the second question but the most prominent one and the most likely correct answer is to sneak corrupt thoughts into his mind or drive him to insanity though that would lead to another question as to why.

If the demon planned to drive Mr. Langdon into a villainous life then, as much as Arthur hated to admit it, there was nothing he could do at the time.

Thankfully, when the tour finally ended and everyone said their good-byes, nothing happened and Arthur felt a miniscule stirring of relief though he remained tense. If there was a demon in the office, it was entirely possible that it already knew about Veneziano and might already know about him too. Despite this, however, Arthur didn't want to jump to conclusions without finding more about this incident as not to raise a false alarm to his charge or Ludwig and Gilbert for that matter.

After Mr. Langdon had left with Ms. Bell, Alfred turned to Arthur with a triumphant grin.

"See? I totally nailed it didn't I? I was awesome! Admit it!" he crowed.

Despite the blatant rub-it-in-your-face tone that would normally irritate Arthur endlessly, and it did slightly raise his hackles, he felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips.

"Yes Alfred, you did a perfect job," he agreed.

Alfred seemed to burst with pride but that collapsed as he stared at Arthur.

"What?" the Briton asked when Alfred continued to stare.

"Why're you so tense?" he asked.

Arthur started. He hadn't even realized it.

He took a deep breath and let it out, relaxing his muscles. "Nothing. I guess it was from Mr. Langdon's visit. It's not unusual to feel a residue of anxiousness."

Alfred nodded slowly. "Well I guess any normal person would be nervous about something like this." Arthur gave him an indignant look but before he could say anything more, Alfred interrupted him. "Let's go celebrate! Everyone can get off early!" he cheered loudly. The office responded with shouts of their own and they all began to pack up, chattering as they did so.

Arthur gawked as people streamed past him towards the elevator or staircase. "Can you do that? I mean, it's not nearly time for work to end."

Alfred shook his head. "Naw it's fine I mean, what's more to do? Everyone probably finished all their stuff while Mr. Langdon was here," he said, shrugging.

Arthur sighed, blowing a puff of air out. Although Alfred had demonstrated astonishing maturity, he was such a kid whenever he was allowed.

"Very well. Not that I could stop you anyway," he grumped.

"Aw don't be like that Artie! How 'bout we go out for some drinks? That'll cheer you right up!"

"I'm not going to drink during the day," Arthur declined, stepping into the elevator with Alfred following.

"C'mon Arthur! You're such a stick-in-the-mud! Have a little fun!" the other said, putting an arm around Arthur's shoulders.

"No, Alfred. I'm going to go have a quiet afternoon at home."

Alfred scoffed. "That's so _boring_. C'mon Arthur! Celebrate! I know a great place! I bet everyone's gonna be there too! In fact, I would think that place would be booked with people from the office! Lighten up a bit and just come with me!"

"Alfred, no," said Arthur firmly. "I'll celebrate with you sometime else but not now."

The American seemed to deflate and Arthur couldn't help but feel a stirring of pity that almost made him change his mind.

"Oh fine. Be a boring old man," he said, pouting.

"Old man? I'm not old Alfred," Arthur cried indignantly, bristling.

They both stepped out the elevator as it dinged open and into the lobby, making their way through the revolving door.

"Sure, sure," Alfred dismissed distractedly, carelessly waving the protest away. There was a short silence as they walked down the stone front steps before he abruptly stopped. Arthur gave a questioning look as Alfred spun around to look at him, startled at the sudden change in behavior.

"Say Arthur," Alfred began slowly, instantly getting Arthur's attention. "I wanna ask why you were _really_ so nervous today I mean, you were tense the whole day and I know it wasn't because of Mr. Langdon. You were a businessman for years so I don't think something like this could have shaken you up but I didn't want to bring it up 'cause you'll get defensive. Now I really need to know what's bothering you so much that you won't hang out a while with me and catch up with each other."

He was frowning now and he looked slightly upset despite the neutral front he tried to put up. Arthur realized that Alfred had probably planned from the beginning to go somewhere together after this, just the two of them despite what he said about going out drinking with the whole office.

Arthur honestly didn't know what to say. He was speechless in fact. Alfred actually wanted to spend time with him? It didn't matter much anyway because at that second, a loud screeching car unexpectedly turned the corner, tipping slightly on its side as it rounded into the street. It sped down the street alarmingly fast. It swerved all over the street, eliciting screams from the pedestrians.

"Arthur! Look out!" Alfred yelled, pulling Arthur, who was staring at the shimmering white car, away from the scene.

He continued looking back as the manager yanked him back up the stairs towards the revolving doors, but about halfway through, he started to struggle in Alfred's grip.

That car's driver was someone familiar. Furthermore, magic was abound but quite well hidden, confined only within the car with only a thread to control it. It was a vital clue that Arthur must examine closer.

"What the hell Arthur?" Alfred cried as Arthur tried to wrest his wrist from his grasp.

"Alfred let go! I need to go down there!"

"Are you crazy? Arthur stop you're going to get killed!"

But Arthur paid no heed. He finally broke free and dashed back down towards the chaos with Alfred calling after him.

The car was still swerving about the street, as if looking for something and Arthur had just managed to reach the bottom step just in time to catch the shocking spectacle unfold before his eyes.

The wayward vehicle had finally decided to settle upon a target and crashed into a man. He flew through the air by the unadulterated force of the car, the sound of shattering glass ringing loudly among the discord of horrified screams of terror from the people who bore witness to the event.

Having made contact, the car screeched down the street and made its getaway, less erratic than before.

Arthur started to run after it but was suddenly apprehended.

"Arthur! What the hell were you thinking?" came a furious shout and Arthur instantly recognized it to be Alfred. "You could've been killed! What is wrong with you? Arthur!"

Arthur wasn't paying attention. His wide green eyes were fixed upon the limp shape across from him and his breath hitched as he caught sight of the victim.

On the other side of the street, through the hole created in the glass window of the building, surrounded by shards of glinting glass and drops of dark red life-liquid, was…

An anguished cry.

"GILBERT!"

Ludwig looked on at his brother's form in distress, feeling a sense of surrealism. Had this really happened?

He quickly snapped out of it and took out his cell phone, trying not to tremble too much as to press the wrong button. Every second counted as Gilbert slipped further and further away from him if he wasn't too far gone already.

Ludwig put the phone to his ear, running his hand through his hair, messing it up. He continued to stare in a morbid fascination at Gilbert feeling as though the world was about to implode, the news devastating yet dreamlike. One thing rang clear, however, and he could hear it sounding painfully loud and crystal clear among the roar of confused turmoil battling themselves out within his mind and heart.

"_When I'm not here, what are you going to do?"_

* * *

**Author's rambling section:** Heh I bet you were all expecting Ivan. Admit it!

Okay, I have several other things to address so the rest of this section will seem a bit fragmented.

First, I hope this chapter wasn't too much of a snooze inducer -.-

Second, I hope the change of POV wasn't too abrupt. I tried to smooth it out a bit but it still seems a little out of place... What do you guys think?

And third... Well, I did it. I murdered Gilbert. I'm an evil evil person. I bet half of you are staring in horror and half of you are going, "Aw but she won't kill a main character. And he's Gilbert too!" Well... you never know... the death of Gilbert may be a very important plot landmark so just watch out and don't be too shocked if I wiped him out okay? Just giving a fair warning.

Again, happy holidays everyone and thanks for your patronage!


	14. Incomplete Life

**_Chapter 14:_** Incomplete Life

* * *

The stiff and bland walls of the hospital waiting room would, understandably, drive anyone on edge. Countless people had already associated the sterile smell in the air and the white walls and tiles to the bad news that might inevitably walk their way. The room provided no warmth or sympathy, putting on a faux front of comfort in the form of posters or an occasional painting. The white fluorescent light certainly provided no warmth, only its clean, overly-bright indifferent light. Indeed, hospitals seemed to be places of cold, impersonal business rather than a place where families and friends can rejoice or weep.

Veneziano's first trip to the hospital had already made an everlasting negative impression on him as he looked around restlessly for the hundredth time.

Arthur sat to his right, elbows resting on his knees and hands interlaced together. He had a clouded look on his face and Veneziano knew he was stewing over the recent turn of events. Disturbing him for anything less than Gilbert's news would be foolish. Alfred sat behind the Brit, glancing towards the area of bustling doctors and nurses every now and then, urgently waiting for one of them to come their way. And Ludwig… Ludwig's head was tilted downward, a hand covered his eyes but Veneziano knew he wasn't crying nor had he _been_ crying, unlike how he himself did when he saw the gory aftermath of the wreck.

He bit his lip and fidgeted in his seat, looking down at the floor feeling useless in Ludwig's time of need. He so desperately wanted to comfort Ludwig but Veneziano wasn't sure how to approach him. The man seemed so far away that the angel trainee was almost afraid to even speak to him in fear of the reaction he would receive. He had a lot of experience with heart-broken people in the past such as those with dead fiancées or those who have lost absolutely everything but Ludwig was somehow a different case. Instead of looking for some form of salvation or hope as people normally do in times of desperation or crisis, Ludwig looked to shut everything inside and wait. It was as though it was already too redundant to look at a more positive outcome.

"Excuse me, any of you here for Gilbert Weillschmidt?"

Ludwig got up and the rest followed.

"Yes that's us."

The doctor nodded and gestured towards the hallway past the reception desk.

"I'm Dr. Collins. If you'll follow me to his room, I'll discuss Mr. Weillschmidt's condition there."

They mutely followed Collins past numerous other rooms, patients, and doctors, hoping for the best of Gilbert's fate.

When they arrived at room number D-184, Collins stopped and opened the door for the party before entering himself and shutting it behind him.

The room was plain, as with the standard hospital rooms although quite spacious. Everything was white, causing the light of the evening sky from the open window across the door to paint the room with a warm golden yellow quickly changing to orange. A cool late autumn breeze blew gently past the thin, fluttering curtains, caressing the occupants inside with its refreshing breath. Gilbert lay in his bed, almost blending in with the white around him yet completely distinguishable from the light glinting off his unique silver locks.

"Well, I'm pleased to say that he is, indeed, alive although just barely," the doctor began, shaking his head as he reviewed the notes on his clipboard. "Severe head trauma, a few cracked ribs that could have punctured his lung not to mention his sternum almost gave away… This is nothing short of some kind of freak luck, the way that car rammed into him and the way he crashed through that glass but he's not in the clear yet. He needs to be carefully monitored especially for any pressure that might build up in his head from that head injury." He clicked his tongue and looked up from the papers. "He's unconscious right now but he should be ready to go within a few days if nothing else comes up so hang tight 'til then. Other than this, there's nothing else so I'll leave everyone alone."

Everyone murmured their thanks to the retreating doctor before looking back at the prone figure of Gilbert.

"Well, it's a good thing he's alive," Arthur said softly. He turned to Ludwig. "I'm sorry it turned out this way."

"Why are you apologizing? It's not your fault," replied Ludwig.

Arthur didn't answer, looking back down at Gilbert morosely, lips pressed together.

"Wow thank god Gil's fine I mean, I'd be one short of a buddy," Alfred added optimistically in relief.

"He's not completely off yet but yes, I suppose Gilbert is okay for now," Ludwig responded.

Ludwig's expression didn't seem to change, even to one of relief and Veneziano wondered if he was trying to steel himself in case Gilbert's condition did somehow plummet.

Arthur shook his head. "No, he's going to be fine," he said. Then, after a moment's pause, gazing thoughtfully at Gilbert, "I know this isn't exactly the best time to bring this up but it's a matter that I think all of you should be aware of as soon as possible so when Gilbert awakens, I wish to talk to the three of you about the accident."

"What about me?" Alfred asked, slightly put out for being left out.

"This is something between Veneziano, Ludwig, Gilbert, and me so I'm afraid I can't tell you anything," Arthur said. "If you don't have anything else to say, I'll take my leave now. I have a few matters to attend to."

He started walking out the door when Alfred hurriedly went after him.

"Wait Arthur, I need to talk to you."

The door closed leaving behind three occupants.

Veneziano looked back at Gilbert's motionless form before glancing at Ludwig from the corner of his eye before turning his gaze downward guiltily.

The lone figure standing before the seemingly lifeless body of Gilbert illustrated a vivid portrait of a melancholic peacefulness. The white painted with quickly darkening hues of the sunset surrounded the two, creating a small, sad, sterile world, just the two of them. Now Ludwig was the sole survivor in this little world and Veneziano knew just how much Ludwig missed his brother.

Ludwig was all alone.

The German's attention quickly snapped toward him, looking startled that Veneziano had begun crying again.

"Veneziano, it's okay. Gilbert's fine, there's no need to cry," Ludwig assured softly, putting a hand gently upon the Italian's left shoulder.

"I'm sorry Ludwig! G-Gilbert i-is here b-because of me!" he wailed.

It was bad enough that Gilbert, an innocent man, was injured because a demon was after him but it was made even worse that Ludwig was the one comforting him.

Veneziano hastily wiped the tears from his eyes.

He couldn't stand the fact that Ludwig was comforting him when he was the one who was hurting so much more.

"I'm going to w-wait outside," he said and before Ludwig could say anything, dashed out the door.

Veneziano sniffled and wandered down the hallway towards the waiting room.

If only he wasn't so useless.

"—you! I couldn't even die even if I jumped off a cliff myself! My death would be nothing short of some kind of miracle! Even then, that miracle won't happen unless some other kind of miracle happens!"

That sounded like Arthur.

Veneziano rounded the corner to find Arthur and Alfred seemingly in a heated but hushed argument. Arthur looked agitated and Alfred seemed annoyed.

Alfred, not satisfied by Arthur's answers, was frowning.

"If you could only die by a miracle created by miracles, what would that miracle be?" he questioned.

"Well unless thousands of people truly wished for one single immortal being to die then no, the miracle won't happen."

"Alright fine. You can't die. I get it but you could still be injured!" Alfred said, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling and throwing his arms in the air.

"Even if I was injured, I would heal ten times quicker than you! I already explained what I was or is your memory so short-termed I have to explain myself again?"

The two stopped their quarrel when they finally noticed Veneziano standing nearby. Arthur, seeing his dejected face and slightly reddened eyes, immediately dropped his angry expression.

"What's wrong?" he instantly asked.

Veneziano shook his head. "Nothing, ve."

Arthur had enough to do as it was. He didn't need to be loaded with _his_ angelic duties too.

The older angel nodded slowly. "Very well Veneziano. I trust you enough that you know what you are doing but never withhold your tongue when you need help, understand?"

Veneziano nodded.

"Good," Arthur said, seemingly satisfied. "Listen, as much as I hate to leave you alone, I need to investigate the site of the accident. Make sure to keep close to Ludwig and stay alert and if anything else happens I'll arrive within a few seconds. Good day."

He seemed to linger a moment longer before turning around and briskly walking out the pristine hospital. At that moment, Ludwig arrived at the waiting room, taking his place by Veneziano.

Alfred soon followed after Arthur, bidding the last two remaining people good-bye and giving Ludwig reassuring words. It was not until Alfred was well away that Veneziano turned to Ludwig and spoke.

"We should go home too ve," he suggested.

Ludwig nodded and the two headed outside, leaving behind the withdrawn hospital to be shrouded by night.

~*~

The drive back home was silent and the arrival to the destination was no different.

Ludwig slipped around the house, taking off his coat and getting ready for the night.

"Do you want dinner Ludwig?" Veneziano asked.

He shook his head. "No thanks Veneziano. I still have work to do."

The Italian frowned sadly at the back of Ludwig's head. He had hardly eaten over the course of the day and even if his appetite had diminished because of the accident, he should at least have a little bit of food. Instead, he was throwing himself at work, probably his way to forget about the accident.

Veneziano won't allow that.

If Ludwig plunged himself into work more than he already did, adverse side effects won't take long to show themselves.

Veneziano made his way into the kitchen and started to prepare a meal for two. Pasta raised his head and walked over to his bowl from his little shelter under the table amongst the chair legs and obediently sat down to await his food.

Veneziano grinned down at the dog and filled it with food before returning to his previous activity.

Ludwig probably knew loneliness all his life but he didn't know how to truly deal with it. He probably thought that as long as Gilbert was there, it was all he needed but Veneziano knew the joys of being around _people._ However, it would take effort on Ludwig's part in order to make and keep his companions. He needs to be more open, something Veneziano knew wouldn't be easy to achieve but the guardian angel was determined to change that.

Veneziano will be sure to guide him from that world of desolate sunsets to an entirely new and otherworldly place.

~*~

By the time Veneziano and Ludwig came for a visit the next day, Gilbert was already awake, albeit a bit cranky.

"How are you feeling?"

Gilbert gave a disgruntled glare before he grumped, "The awesome me is in a hospital. How do you think?"

"You're feeling fine then," Ludwig translated.

"To hell I am! I ache in places I didn't know existed or ache in the first place!" Gilbert protested.

"Better aching than dead," Ludwig pointed out.

"Yeah but not if you're the one pain."

Gilbert did seem like he was back to normal though, which relieved Veneziano. He didn't know what he'd do if Gilbert was angry.

"So what's up?"

"Nothing."

"You know Ludwig, you're making conversation a bit difficult," Gilbert said monotonously.

His brother simply raised a brow. "And what is it do you want to talk about?"

Gilbert groaned and flopped down on his pillows. "I don't know! Something! I'm so goddamn bored!" He gestured towards several gifts by his bedside.

"You'd think they'd give me something fun like my DS. The hell am I supposed to do with flowers? Make flower crowns and decorate my hair?" he grumbled, looking at the small number of flowers among his gifts.

Ludwig rolled his eyes and simply handed him his DS, causing Gilbert's face to alight with joy.

"I knew I could count on you!" he cheered but before he could even get the device open, Ludwig spoke again.

"By the way, Arthur wants to have a talk with all three of us so he might be coming by a little later."

"Yeah, yeah I got you," Gilbert said carelessly, waving away Ludwig's message. The blonde was about to add something else but Gilbert beat him to the chase.

"Can you go grab me a soda? I haven't had sugar in _forever_ so can you sorta save my life and get one? Thanks. Oh and buy me my favorite sandwich while you're at it. The food here's crap."

Ludwig gave Gilbert an irritated look but complied anyway, leaving Veneziano alone with the injured man.

"Phew. Glad that I got him out before he began lecturing. He gets that way when he's worried," Gilbert said, snickering under his breath. "Luckily, I'm injured so he'll do almost anything for me, including running all the way across town to my favorite deli." He let a smirk fill his face, probably remembering other times he got hurt.

"Isn't it mean to take advantage of Ludwig like that?" Veneziano asked.

"Ah well, saying I take advantage of him is a little… It's more like he's taking advantage of himself for me. Even if I don't ask, he'll still do this stuff." Gilbert explained.

When he saw Veneziano tip his head to the side in slight confusion, he said, "He's just a little bit overprotective of me sometimes so when I get hurt in any way, forget going to the hospital, he could be a bit overbearing sometimes. I mean, I'm like his only family but seriously, he thinks that every broken arm or nose is going to be the death of me."

"Ludwig really cares about you," Veneziano said happily.

"Yeah but sometimes I wish he would stop. He worries too much. Well okay, maybe this time is a close one but I gave death the finger didn't I? But when he gets injured and I come to help, he's all, leave me alone or I'll glare you to oblivion." He attempted to imitate Ludwig's glare, doing a very impressive job at it.

Veneziano smiled and giggled and Gilbert let out a satisfied smirk but the Italian couldn't help but think Gilbert sounded a bit resentful when he said that, maybe even frustrated but tried to hide it by attempting humor.

"I'm sure Ludwig didn't want to trouble you."

"Yeah but he never lets me help him! In fact, he doesn't tell me anything!" Gilbert burst out.

It seems that the topic has been pent up deep inside him for a long time for the normally laidback Gilbert to suddenly burst out like that so Veneziano listened patiently as he began to let everything out.

"I mean I'm his brother aren't I? Even if he thinks it might annoy me, we're still family! It's not right to keep everything to himself! I want to listen to his problems too. I want to know what's up. It's better than not knowing what's going on at all! What I wouldn't give to hear him complain for once!"

Veneziano looked sympathetically at Gilbert. To be kept into the dark by his brother must hurt, wondering and worrying about the wellbeing of someone who refuses to divulge the information. He couldn't be able to tell whether or not Ludwig didn't want to worry him or whether he's just being distrustful and that in itself hurt because he was questioning his own brother's trust.

"Ludwig means a lot to you, doesn't he?"

Gilbert sighed. "He does. In fact, I owe my life to him." He glanced over at Veneziano and caught his curious and surprised expression, looking like he wanted to ask but didn't want to invade into something personal.

"You can ask you know. I don't bite," he said, grinning like a child with an exciting secret.

"I'm sorry," Veneziano immediately apologized.

Gilbert shot him a funny look before saying, "You know when people say that, you don't apologize, right?" When Veneziano started to look slightly panicked, he continued.

"But either way, I owe Ludwig a life."

"Why?" Veneziano finally asked, although a bit tentatively.

"Well… To start off, I used to hate Ludwig. I was just an unfortunate child who just happened to land in that hellhole called an orphanage and you could probably imagine how angry I was."

Angry didn't even begin to describe it. Gilbert was enraged, furious, practically livid at his misfortune. To be stuck there with no way out, no words could describe how frustrating and despairing it was. He would tremble with the desire to wail out loud and shout and hit something. He was helpless of his situation and he hated it. Trapped with no options and not knowing how to deal with everything his life had brought, he fought. He fought for his life, he fought the Queen and Head, and he fought the others. It was the only way he knew how to live.

When he had met Ludwig, he felt a strong wave of bitterness and anger hit him. Here was a kid who has a loving family who would soon take him away. There was no way he could possibly know his pain, the pain of the real world. The idiot lives in bliss, ignorant of _his_ suffering and unaware of the blessing he held: the blessing of a future. He hated ignorant people because it was these kinds of people who didn't know about his situation and couldn't save him. He so badly wanted Ludwig to feel the same pain he did, to let him know how much he was suffering. Thinking back on it in his later years, Gilbert often wondered what he was trying to accomplish by doing so but he was a bitter and foolish child who was just desperate to have someone understand.

"I know he didn't do anything wrong. In fact, he might have had it worst than me I mean, falling into a river and losing your memories, not being able to remember your family has to be painful. I guess I kind of felt sorry for him but I still hated him. Then, the day after we met, we went to this small clearing in the forest to get away from the orphanage for a while."

That's right. Gilbert would never forget that day, the day Ludwig and he switched lives.

"My anger finally boiled over and I hurt Ludwig. In my mind, he was just an ignorant kid who doesn't know what others have been through, who would never know what people like me have been suffering through. But Ludwig did seem to know. He offered me a flower and an apology and he had a determined look, as though he's saying he'll live and suffer through this with me. I didn't think much of it at the time because I was sure his family would have found him before he could stay even a week so I just took the flower and shred it. I might not have realized it then but at that moment, we switched. I sabotaged his childhood which in turn ruined his future and in exchange, he gave me a friend and hope. I don't know how I would have turned out if I hadn't met Ludwig. Probably join a gang and become a druggie or something."

There was a brief pause.

"I still haven't managed to make it up to him," Gilbert said almost guiltily.

Of course he hadn't. Ludwig had offered his loyalty, companionship, and absolute trust and support for the rest of his life and all Gilbert gave in exchange was a name he made up on the spot.

"I realize that I gotta live my life as celebration for our triumph through hell but he still hasn't realized it yet. My lessons on life are just too embedded into him for him to stop surviving and start living. Ludwig has no memories of his real past or happier days and no future he could look forward to. He doesn't have anything. If it weren't for the fact that his way of living isn't normal, I would have left him alone but no, I've never seen Ludwig do anything besides work. Heck, I can't even remember the last time he smiled. I admit, I'm a bit desperate, maybe that's why I so readily trusted you. I mean, it doesn't matter either way. You look like a good, honest guy. I just want someone to accomplish what I failed to do."

More than once, Gilbert had tried to imagine what Ludwig might have been like if he had just tried to preserve his brother's life from his own. Would he be open? Would he have smiled and laughed more? He couldn't quite imagine what Ludwig might look like without a frown or a neutral look on his face and Gilbert gave up, thinking it too useless to keep it up. It was just something that was just _Ludwig_ but this made him realize just how long ago Ludwig last looked happy if he had ever been. What's even sadder to Gilbert was the fact Ludwig himself didn't seem aware of this.

"But Gilbert, it's not your fault," Veneziano protested.

Gilbert gave a sharp look that made him flinch.

"Isn't it? Veneziano, you weren't there when I forcefully dragged him down through that place and left him alone even though it was unnecessary and I even locked my door so he couldn't come in multiple times to teach him 'survival.' It's a miracle if he doesn't feel some form of resentment towards me at all. Heh… but then again, in his twisted mind, I was doing it for his own good… I can't do this alone anymore. I need your help. Do whatever it takes but just make him happy. I owe him that much. I can't leave this alone until he realizes his life so it's not just for Ludwig but me too."

Veneziano nodded solemnly.

He understood perfectly well that Gilbert's happiness was riding on Ludwig's. To accomplish this task meant closure for Gilbert, who will finally be free of all the destruction his childhood had caused him. It's no longer about one individual who can't seem to move forward in their lives but two.

There was a knock at the door and both occupants watched as Arthur entered the room.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said, walking up to Gilbert. "How are you feeling?"

Gilbert shrugged. "As good as a guy who got hit by a car speeding a hundred miles an hour could feel."

"Ah yes. Sorry I guess the answer is a bit obvious," Arthur said uncomfortably.

"Relax. I'm just joking around," Gilbert assured before looking at him curiously. "You said you wanted to talk 'bout something?"

"Yes I do but where is Ludwig?" the Brit asked after doing a quick scan of the small room.

"Oh he's out doing me a favor. He's not going to be back for a small while," Gilbert answered carelessly.

"I see. Well in that case I guess we'll have to wait."

Several minutes passed by with idle chatter before Ludwig reentered the room with a wrapped sandwich from Gilbert's favorite deli and a soda.

"Hey thanks. You're my favorite guy you know that?" Gilbert said, face brightening in delight as he finally got his hands on the food he craved.

"I'm sure I am," Ludwig agreed dryly.

"Hello Ludwig," Arthur greeted to which the younger German returned.

"You have something to say to us?" he inquired.

"Yes. I'm sorry for the short notice but this… incident had piqued my interest," Arthur said. "If you don't wish to talk about it, it could wait another day."

"No worries," Gilbert said exasperatedly. "Why walk on eggshells? It's not like I'm _dead_ or anything."

"Yes well, I wanted to make sure you're not mentally traumatized before I tell you the fact that that car was aiming for you."

Gilbert instantly snapped to full attention.

"Say what?"

Arthur nodded. "It's true that you are also a target since you are part of Veneziano's client's family but you're still far safer than Ludwig. You three were together correct? So why wasn't Ludwig the one who landed in the hospital?"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down Artie," Gilbert said, ignoring the slight displeased frown on his face. "You're saying that they were hoping to single me out and ram me through a window? Why?"

"It would appear so. The chaos provided a chance to separate everyone and apparently, they focused on you when you broke apart. As for the reason why… well I might venture that it was, at the very least, a warning or a way to keep your mouth shut about something."

Gilbert snorted. "Wow. I must be pretty damn awesome for someone to want me dead."

Arthur looked pointedly at the layback man. "A warning of this degree would imply that you know something that someone else wants to be kept under a tight lid and I would like to know what it is."

Gilbert looked a bit perplexed. "Something I know? Dude, I know a lot of shit. Be more specific."

"I don't know," Arthur replied. "Knowledge you received digging around where you're not supposed to."

"Hmm… Well… I guess I've been researching the recent takeover of various small businesses and I've begun to watch for partnerships created between businesses. I mean, my friends who own small businesses are getting these threatening letters and the police won't do a damn thing about it for some reason so we couldn't turn to them. I didn't want to tell anyone 'cause if the police can't do shit, then who knows who else they have under their thumb," Gilbert said. "Sorry I didn't tell you Luddy but I knew you'd freak out if you found out and really, a business this shady sending threat letters isn't something I wanted to get you involved in," he added when he noticed the slight surprise on Ludwig's face.

Arthur nodded slowly as he took in the recent revelation.

"Then it's highly likely the recent takeovers and this incident is related which means it's also possibly likely our visiting president might be involved too."

"Well what are we going to do about it?" Gilbert asked almost eagerly.

Arthur shook his head. "Nothing for now. There's nothing we can do unless you can somehow procure evidence that Mr. Langdon is guilty of his crimes. Besides, I believe the demons already know about me so they're likely to keep a close eye on our activities. There's still too much information missing and I don't want to act until I know exactly what these demons are planning and who is involved."

Gilbert looked slightly disgruntled but didn't complain, opting instead to start on his sandwich.

"I'll make sure to keep a tighter watch over things so this doesn't happen again. In the meantime, Gilbert, tell me more about these small companies that have been receiving these letters. It seems our enemies have already made the first move and we're still dawdling around in the dark. I don't like the implications of this so start telling me everything from the beginning."

* * *

**Author's Rambling Section:** Oh look Gilbo's alive... for now... maybe. I bet 'bout half of you expect him dead but... I only implied he _might_ bite the dust.

You didn't think I'd add chapter 11 for no reason now did you? Tsk tsk. And what? Is that...? Symbolism in there? Gasp :O

Hopefully this chapter doesn't seem too... awkward so feel free to send some crit.

'Til next time.


	15. Newfound

_**Chapter 15:**_ Newfound

* * *

Life without Gilbert around the house was strange. There was no one to rave to him, no one to bug him with his constant presence, and no one to blast overly loud rock or video game music. It made Ludwig a bit put off but part of him was thankful Gilbert wasn't there. He didn't think he can survive with _two_ overgrown children instead of one.

Ever since the accident, Veneziano seemed to be competing with Gilbert for the title of Ludwig Irritator King. While Ludwig appreciated his thoughtfulness while his brother was away and how the Italian attempted to fill the spot, he didn't appreciate how Veneziano made messes out of the simplest tasks, overcomplicated things, forget things, his siestas at the most inconvenient times, and his extremely short attention span. It amazed Ludwig how deft Veneziano could be handling household chores when he wasn't being busy lazing around but anything outside that, he would find a way to mess up, leaving Ludwig to clean up and then some.

With the absence of Gilbert, however, he had the chance of learning a few things about Veneziano over the course in which his brother lay in the hospital.

One of the first things he immediately learned about Veneziano is that if he was given the choice between life and pasta, he would choose life just so he could spend it eating pasta. To him, pasta _is_ his life, as Ludwig had learned when Veneziano made pasta for four consecutive days for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and the times in between. Ludwig was sure that he would have kept cooking pasta if he hadn't insisted too much pasta was unhealthy.

Second, Veneziano drew a lot. He had a lot of artistic talent and if he wasn't spending his time slacking off from his work or having his siestas, he would most likely be found somewhere quiet, pencil in hand and sketching in his sketchbook while humming contentedly.

Finally, Veneziano was extremely easy to read. It took a while for Ludwig to realize that Veneziano wasn't faking and that he was actually showing what he was feeling. He had felt suspicious and wary of the way overtly happy Veneziano. He was too happy all the time and it seemed impossible for anyone to act as perky as he did every single day. Ludwig hadn't truly realized Veneziano's expressions weren't a façade until the time he was scolding a droopy Italian one day when the memory of Veneziano suddenly crying over Gilbert abruptly ran through his head. Ludwig wondered why that observation escaped him until now but he guessed he was feeling a bit distressed to notice much.

Ludwig supposed what he was feeling was distressed. He often found himself distracted, reading the same line as much as five times without registering the meaning and found himself making multiple mistakes he didn't realize he was making until someone pointed it out to him on the finished product. Every time Gilbert was brought up along with a question about his well-being or mention his hospitalization, he felt a brief sharp jab that spread through him before dulling down into an ache that settled in his stomach. He knew Gilbert was fine but he couldn't shake the worry that something else might go terribly wrong, perhaps not in the immediate time span but in the future. Who's the say this won't happen again?

The worry kept pulling at a corner of his mind and it frustrated him. He couldn't concentrate and small things irritated him. For once, he wished he had no job so he could visit Gilbert everyday without restraint of time, to reassure himself that no further harm had befallen his brother. The fear was irrational, Ludwig knew, because Gilbert was in a safe place and Arthur had promised to look into who and why someone wanted him dead. Still, he feared and worried and if it weren't for Veneziano, Ludwig would have continued dwelling on it until Gilbert was let out and even then he'd still dwell on it afterwards. In this case, he supposed it was a good thing the so-called guardian angel was around despite the grief he puts him through.

Veneziano kept the constant pressure of his situation from completely crushing him, his mess ups and clumsiness had directed almost all of Ludwig's attention towards Veneziano, who had begun to drag Kiku down with him. Though it was just downright exasperating at times, Ludwig wondered whether Veneziano was doing it on purpose for his own good or whether he was just trying to help him feel better by struggling to attempt a little more effort. Ludwig actually felt a bit appreciative to him.

Despite Veneziano's flaws, Ludwig found himself used to his presence almost as much as Gilbert's. He no longer minded the fact that he'll be the one to clean up after the Italian as much as before. He expected him to mess up anyway. His inability to do anything no longer irked Ludwig as much as it used to and, much to his horror and dismay, he had even gotten used to Veneziano sneaking into his bed at night.

It was a revolutionary and radical change in his life but, strangely enough, Ludwig didn't seem to be aware of it more than half the time nor did he seem to mind. It had just become so normal that it gradually just blended in with his life like anything else and thus, he continued on like always.

Upon the seventh and last day of Gilbert's absence, Ludwig walked into the office as usual to find the air was charged with excitement. People were casually milling around moving chairs and equipment around the room, a loud hum filling the workplace as they talked energetically to each other.

Veneziano, who had picked up on the charged atmosphere almost before the elevator doors even opened, looked around delightfully.

Ludwig idled in the elevator, baffled for a few seconds before quickly stepping off. He caught Kiku walking by and took the opportunity to find out what in the world was going on.

"It seems Yao-san and Jones-san has deemed it an appropriate day to celebrate the successful new alliance with SM Company."

"Now?" Ludwig asked incredulously. "Without any notice the day before?"

"It is rather sudden," Kiku agreed. "But once Jones-san convinced everyone to take a day off and have fun, Yao-san didn't have a choice but to comply."

Ludwig massaged his forehead as he felt a headache beginning to rise up.

Alfred.

Deciding that it wasn't worth the effort to get angry over or fight against, he resignedly went along with whatever crazy event the office had thought up.

"So what is he making everyone do this time?" Ludwig asked wearily.

"It seems Jones-san has found it fit to appoint today 'fair day.' He insists on having fun before eating so he has organized a scavenger hunt with various appliances mixed around to increase the difficulty."

Ludwig wondered where the logic in that went. How is anyone ever going to find their things again?

He turned to Veneziano but, not much to his surprise, found he wasn't by his side anymore. Leave it to him to disappear whenever something even remotely piquing his interest appears.

Just then, Arthur trudged by pushing someone's swivel chair before him with someone's printer seated upon the fabric cushioning. His movements were slow and zombie-like, his posture slumped, something unusual for the usually prim man, and his eyes were red from consecutive nights up.

Ludwig felt sympathy for him. Between the hours he spent at work, researching, being alert twenty-four seven all day long, and looking after Pasta in between it all, the poor man probably didn't get much peace. He certainly knows how it feels to have his hands full, having spent nights up working in the past but he never had to deal with the stress of having lives depend on him as well.

"Hey Ludwig!" a boisterous, unmistakable voice greeted.

The German turned towards the source and felt his already dead hope for a normal day wither away even further.

Alfred was dressed in an outrageous cowboy costume complete with stirrup boots, leather vest, a shiny golden sheriff star, and a brown ten gallon hat.

Ludwig took a few moments to register Alfred's strange dress and deny it before grudgingly accepting the reality of the ridiculous getup, asking, "Alfred, why are you wearing that?"

"'Cause it's awesome!" Alfred explained.

"He bought it a week ago and couldn't wait to try it…" Matthew's soft voice sounded from beside his brother, unnoticed until he spoke.

Was that the reason he called for a party?

Ludwig decided to conveniently forget about the recent information.

"So now that you're here," Alfred said, ignoring or not hearing Matthew speak, "You can help us pick up some supplies!"

Veneziano suddenly bounced back to Ludwig from the heart of the crowd with a candy apple in his hand and waved at Arthur as he continued across the office. Arthur took no notice.

"Ludwig! Ludwig! They have candy!" Veneziano announced in awe.

"Yes that's very good Veneziano," Ludwig replied almost automatically, patting him a few times on the head almost absentmindedly.

Veneziano made a happy little, "Ve!" and started on his treat.

"Right so here's a list of items we need," Alfred said, handing over the list.

Ludwig took it, checked it over, and sighed. Only half of the words were even barely legible and there were random inputs, arrows, and circles around certain items with words such as 'cool' and 'awesome' sprinkled across the paper. To say this was chicken scratch was insulting to chickens around the world. This was more like a worm had suddenly decided it wanted to be literate and attempted writing for the first time and even that was pushing it.

He looked up the list and looked at Alfred skeptically. "I can't read this Alfred."

"What'dya mean you can't read it? That's my best handwriting!"

Ludwig found himself caught between feeling a bit grateful the guy at least tried or dread someone like him managed to go through college and become a manager with as atrocious a handwriting as the one he was currently holding in his hands.

"Alfred, you could have typed this out," Ludwig said.

"… I… I didn't think of that," Alfred admitted, sheepishly. "But that's okay! It'll be real quick!"

"I'm sorry Alfred but if I can't read it, I can't possibly buy anything. Why don't you ask someone else who can read it?"

"But everyone is already too busy and you and Veneziano don't have anything to do since you came in late so you guys are the only ones who can do this!"

"Alfred," Ludwig started to explain exasperatedly when Arthur shuffled up to him and looked down on the list. He winced and frowned disapprovingly before taking the list from Ludwig's hands, taking a pen out of his pocket. He turned the paper upside down over and over again, translating the Alfredish to the English language.

"Here."

Arthur finished and handed the paper back to Ludwig, who took it gratefully and thanked him.

"You're welcome," he replied with a nod and returned to his previous task of pushing the swivel chair.

Arthur's leave seemed to spark a kind of remembrance in Alfred.

"So yeah just buy everything on the list and make sure you buy the ones I circled. I'll see you later!" he said hastily and jogged to catch up with Arthur.

Ludwig looked down at the new, renovated list at Arthur's refined, cursive handwriting, a blunt contrast to Alfred's alien language residing just on the other side of the paper.

"Let's get going Veneziano," Ludwig said and the Italian nodded agreeably, following him into the elevator as he continued to enjoy his candy apple treat.

~*~

It turns out the little shopping trip wasn't going to be "real quick" as Alfred had said. While there were only about ten items on the list, they weren't things that could be found all in one place. Ludwig and Veneziano had ended up running all over the place to find the items listed like their own personal mini scavenger hunt that was most likely a full blown game up at the office by now.

About halfway down the list, Veneziano had managed to strike an almost one-sided conversation and he began talking about different kinds of gelato and pasta. Ludwig listened halfheartedly as he continued to search around.

"… With grana padano! My fratello and I used to sneak some and use it to make pasta whenever we can but sometimes we get caught and get into trouble…"

"You had a brother?" Ludwig asked, the change of topic catching his interest.

Veneziano nodded vigorously. "Uh huh! We don't meet very often but we have lots of fun together!"

"Where is he now?"

"Well… I'm not sure, ve… I haven't seen him for years… I miss him even though he used to throw tomatoes at me and called me an idiot," he said happily.

Apparently mistaking Ludwig's astonished stare to be something else, he hastily continued on to say, "But it's okay! He used to say he'd be better off if I jumped off a cliff."

The reassurance wasn't any better.

"I know Romano is doing fine! I would like to meet him if I could but I want to follow my dream!"

"Oh?"

"Yeah! When I was little, I had a friend who used to live with me. We spent a lot of time together and we would play together but sometimes, we couldn't play because he had work to do. Romano didn't like him though," Veneziano said, giggling before sobering, a soft frown hanging on his face. "He… went missing and I felt horrible. I wanted to be a guardian angel so that no one would have to feel as sad as I did when he was gone. I want to make everybody in the world happy. Maybe, if I help enough people, they'll understand others who went through the same thing and help them too."

Veneziano's earnest gaze shone with a sincere light as he continued talking about his dream in a light and mesmerized voice and Ludwig found himself actually listening. Perhaps it was because of the way he talked so devoutly or the way he seemed to look far away beyond reality, distracted dreamily yet wistfully at a passing intangible mist only he could see.

Veneziano's wish made sense to Ludwig but it was unrealistic and naïve. There was no way he could help everybody in the world, it was just not how it works but still, Ludwig supposed he could try even if it is in vain so he kept quiet and patiently continued to listen.

Ludwig learned a few more things about the Italian that day.

The first thing he noticed was that Veneziano was an idealistic dreamer. It wasn't surprising but his heartfelt divulgence of his hopes presented a new scope of just how naïve he is to Ludwig. And to think he used to believe Veneziano was faking everything. However, through his corrected understanding of the guardian angel, Ludwig had begun to wonder whether he didn't see Veneziano's true light because he looked into things too much.

The second thing he realized was Veneziano would do anything if it meant the happiness of others and especially more so, the life of others. He would go to great lengths to make someone happy. If it meant seeing just a small quirk of the lips, Veneziano would go through Hell and back. If it meant hearing a genuine laugh, it would mean the world to Veneziano a thousand times over and that would be enough.

Finally, the last thing he learned was despite Veneziano's faults and his seemingly lazy disposure, he does try his hardest in everything. He must if he were to realize his dream. Ludwig had noted the guardian angel's complete lack of talent for anything but art, household chores, and cooking but he didn't really see how he had been trying vigorously to meet Ludwig's standards in the office despite his lack of experience or competence.

The new revelations, frankly, perplexed Ludwig. How could someone as simple as Veneziano hold something deep? Something no one could see unless they bothered to delve there? He was like a living paradox: someone with a simplistic view to the point of a fault with seemingly intricate thoughts and actions. But maybe Ludwig was looking at it wrong and Veneziano wasn't a paradox but really just a simple guy with such straightforward answers and views that it looks complicated. Surely in a world that second guesses itself all the time, Veneziano would seem like an oddity.

Ludwig felt a new sense of understanding touch him and he placed a hand on the angel trainee's shoulder encouragingly.

Startled by the unexpected action, Veneziano looked up at Ludwig with wide brown eyes and seeing his gaze returned comfortingly, he gave a wide thankful smile, the radiance filling his eyes and brightening his entire visage.

Strangely enough, Ludwig found it reassured him as well.

"So are you excited that Gilbert's finally coming home?" Veneziano asked.

Ludwig simply nodded. "It'll be noisy again," he sighed.

"Gilbert is fun!" the Italian declared. "He must be lonely in that hospital without you."

"I'm sure he is."

"And... Oh! I forgot to get something!" Veneziano exclaimed, abruptly stopping. He hurriedly passed everything he was holding to Ludwig before the latter could protest. "It'll be fast don't worry!" And he sped off amongst the people, Ludwig's call to wait hanging unheard in the air. He stared after the area where Veneziano had just disappeared, shook his head, and decided to get the final item on the list. He was a bit concerned with letting Veneziano wander off alone but he couldn't exactly chase after him now especially with the load he had in arms.

He started making his way towards the last shop with a vivacious Italian missing by his side, a brittle, unsettled feeling slowly dissipating through him.

He couldn't explain it but unlike his partially justified fear for Gilbert, it was completely illogical, just like pretty much anything relating to Veneziano.

Somehow, as he watched Veneziano turn his back on him and run, a brief stir of loneliness twirled within him.

~*~

When the duo returned to the office, they were met with the sight of people crowding around, what looked like, bowling games. Others were rollerblading around and still others were shooting plastic, realistic-looking guns at targets. Looks like Alfred managed to have his way with the shooting gallery, only without real guns. Or a saloon. Or a criminal. Hopefully no criminals.

"Hey Ludwig you're back! You can just put the stuff in back," said one of the coworkers preoccupied with an intense game of cards.

Ludwig went towards the back of the office and set the bags down on the table along with a bowl of punch, plates of chips, and a chocolate cake. Veneziano immediately took to the lasagna on the next table, transferring a fairly large portion onto a plate.

Turning around to face the chaos of the office, he let out a breath and pulled up a nearby chair to sit in until everything blew over and he was allowed to go pick up Gilbert from the hospital. It was boring but he refused to participate in the office's childish activities. Taking a break today meant twice the work tomorrow, Ludwig hoped they knew.

Veneziano also took a seat beside him with the plate of food in hand, only putting it down once to invite a lost-looking Kiku to sit with them, an invitation the quiet man gratefully took. The trio passed time talking together away from the other people, Veneziano animatedly chatting, Kiku softly replying, and Ludwig briefly answering.

Ludwig supposed the conversation was pretty interesting. The topic constantly flowed from one thing to another so they never stayed upon a stagnant topic until awkward silence prevailed as they flailed around for something else to say.

Kiku turned out to be a rather interesting person although Ludwig suspected he kept some of his true opinions to himself. He was a reserved man and his manner of talking was no different but the way he worded things hinted to a point that was by no means covered up at all if one deigned to listen closely enough and understood the connotations behind it. Kiku was still a bit of a mystery though. His input was sparse although whether it was because he has nothing to say, which Ludwig didn't think was true, or perhaps because he was more of a listener than a talker, he wasn't sure. Either way, Kiku was sensitive to the atmosphere of conversations and mood and knew exactly when to keep things to himself or to tell the truth of the situation. Ludwig would know. He's been subject to the blunt truth in the past.

Through the conversation, Ludwig discovered Kiku liked salted salmon, loved cats, and has no preference in particular to many things. He was not a very picky guy. He seemed to have a lot to say about certain people such as Alfred and Yao, complimenting on the things he admired about them and almost hesitantly told them what he disliked about them and their flaws.

The trio was interrupted only once by Alfred, who asked them if they wanted to join in on the fun, to which they declined, Ludwig refusing to participate the crazy office's antics, Kiku feeling too awkward to join, and Veneziano too preoccupied with the food.

When the play-day had ended, Ludwig and Veneziano headed straight towards the hospital to finally bring Gilbert back home. Ludwig knew his brother hated being confined in one place for too long and he was already complaining by the second day. He could imagine Gilbert about to throw a fit by now.

Once they arrived, they got out the car, entered the hospital, walked through the hallways until they finally came upon the door to the room of D-184.

There were voices inside and upon opening the door, the sight of three occupants immediately came into view.

One of them was Gilbert, who was talking to the second occupant, a cheery Antonio sitting by his bedside. The third occupant was leaning with arms crossed against the window, directly facing the door. He looked so shockingly alike Veneziano that if Ludwig didn't know the Italian was right beside him, he certainly would have mistaken the slightly darker-haired, grumpy looking counterpart.

Of course, the Veneziano-lookalike was the first one to see the two new arrivals and he had barely even glanced at Ludwig before his eyes went wide upon catching sight of Veneziano. Antonio, who had turned to see who had come in, stood up slowly, looking back and forth between the two brunets, his expression rapidly switching from sunny to confusion.

The Veneziano doppelganger spoke first, never taking his eyes off the alarmed-looking Veneziano and breaking the sudden silence and tension that suddenly fell upon the room.

"Feli?"

* * *

**A/N: **Finally! I got through my writer's block and got a flash of inspiration from, strangely, my kitchen tile floor. What?

Critique is welcome as always.


	16. The Puzzling Piece

_**Chapter 16:**_ The Puzzling Piece

* * *

_"Let's make a bet."_

Arthur sat at Ludwig's kitchen table, staring mindlessly into his cup of tea, watching the steam coil out from the hot liquid, twirling around each other before disappearing. It was his favorite brand, the aroma exquisitely delightful with a wonderfully rich flavor. Yet, today, Arthur couldn't find comfort in its soothing depths. He was too preoccupied to even properly savor it.

_"The terms are pretty easy..."_

He found him. No. He had found _them _a long time ago. He was just playing around. He had probably assessed them to be in the low-threat range. And then there's…

_"The stakes are simple…"_

Dammit! How did it ever come to this? Why the hell did he agree to it? If he had just stopped to think for a few more minutes, maybe he could've found another way out. But Arthur knew the truth. If he couldn't find a solution for that situation now, he certainly wouldn't have been able to think of one on the spot.

_"If you win, I'll tell you everything I know…"_

That sadistic son of a—

He knew he was at his mercy so he took advantage of it, turning it like it was some kind of twisted child's game. Then again, if he didn't, he wouldn't be called a demon.

_"If we win… Well… I think you know."_

He knew making deals with devils and demons was the most foolish thing anyone could ever do. Contracts were the absolute worst but bets came in close second. Demons were notorious snakes for finding loopholes any way they see fit to their advantage.

_"But in case you don't… Let me enlighten you…"_

Wearily, he decided to go rest in the living room and sit on the couch as opposed to the stiff wooden kitchen chair. It was a waste to pour the tea down the drain but it would be a waste anyway if he couldn't relish it the way it deserved.

_"Veneziano will, of course, be handed over to us…"_

The rough screech from the chair leg as it scrapped across the tile awakened Pasta from his favorite napping place underneath the table. He groggily got up and, almost as if in a huff, trotted off to some other part of the house to nap.

_"And not just him, I'm sure you know. You too…"_

Arthur moved into the living room and sat down on a sun-lit patch of couch.

_"Hmm… But that's so… boring. Why don't we… up the stakes a little shall we? Just to add to the thrill."_

He covered his eyes, unwillingly letting the amused venomous words twist and flicker through his mind.

_"How about we include the souls of Ludwig and Alfred as well? _

That bastard has been hiding among the office like a snake in the grass and he couldn't find him in time. Now, it's not just Veneziano and him and to some extent, Gilbert, in critical danger but he managed to involve Alfred and Ludwig entirely into their little war.

_"Of course, you'll get the added benefit of having us leave you all alone. There's only one rule: You can't tell anyone about this little bet unless they figure it out all by themselves. You can't give hints either. Otherwise, both of us are free to interfere as much as we please. Is this Agreed? Good. Then I bet…"_

Arthur decided to wallow a little longer on the foolishness of the bet before getting up. He had other things to do, mainly alerting his superiors about the newest development. Or at least, alerting them about the demon in the area.

Conjuring his wand, he channeled energy through the magical instrument, waiting for a reply.

There was none.

Frowning, feeling a slight sense of foreboding, he tried again.

Nothing.

He stared at his wand in bafflement, as if doing so as long as possible would magically get it to work.

Something was up. Something or someone was preventing him from contacting any other angel, near or far. He'll have to investigate.

Arthur hesitated before channeling energy into the wand again. The tip immediately ignited with fire.

Strange, he could still do magic. At least he could defend himself or someone else if necessary. He supposed doing small tricks wouldn't hurt. The demon already knew about him and he doubted he would make a move what with the bet which seemed rather strange now that Arthur viewed it from a more logical standpoint. It would have been easier to just kill him off and capture Veneziano instead of going through with the bet.

Demons liked to play around with victims but they wouldn't do so unless they knew they would win. If he had known he'd win, why had he waited this long before making a move? He might have been assessing the threat but something still struck him as odd. We? There was more than one demon involved. Perhaps it could have just been the demon's minions or slaves but he seemed to say it as thought he was on equal footing with someone. Arthur did touch on the possibility there might be more than one demon was responsible for various misfortune but to think that a group was working together, it was quite incredible. They don't tend to form bands considering the mistrust they have of each other yet this demon had come forth to lay the bet, another strange oddity.

The mistrust of demons usually spurs them to accompany each other when making contracts or other agreements but this one was alone. Was he acting as spokesperson for the group? In any case, if there was a group of malicious demons, it still didn't explain why one of them didn't decide to make a move taking into account their impatience.

Arthur's contemplation was puzzling. He found an answer yet more questions. It was one step forward and ten back. What, exactly, are they up to? One thing's for sure, Arthur's vague assumption that tickled teasingly at his mind was firmly verified. He was dealing with more than one demon, working together no less, with no one but himself and a bet to stand between Veneziano, Gilbert, Ludwig, Alfred, and heck, just about everyone he knows and don't know.

This was looking more and more disastrous by the second.

He'll have to sort this out on his investigation but in the mean time…

Arthur muttered angelic under his breath, holding his wand in front of him. With a brilliant glow and a small boom, a golden circular ring seven inches in diameter appeared a few inches above his hand. He caught it as it fell and the moment it touched his fingers, a blue light slowly emerged before a glowing blue line started to track around the circle. When it reached its origin again, white filled the space of the ring. For a moment, nothing else happened as Arthur continued to charge the ring. Slowly, a few drops of color bled onto the white, like watercolor paint upon paper. The drops extended, reaching out beyond its perimeters even as more drops appeared. A vague, watery picture began to form, slowly but surely growing more and more defined as the colors seemed to deepen and harden, shaping solid objects. Finally, the finished product revealed itself.

Within the ring was a picture of a white room. A door stood to the left and a window to the right, its curtains closed, filtering the afternoon sunlight. The metal rods of a bed foot end glinted, white sheets swathing near it. The picture shifted to the left, revealing a small bed table with a vase of flowers before suddenly being tilted diagonally. The picture swerved violently, blurring the little color there was in the room before finally settling down on a lower elevation to the left of its original point of view.

Success! With this, he'll be able to keep a lookout on things.

Arthur nodded in approval before the ring vanished in a puff of smoke.

Okay, on to other matters.

He called Ludwig to make sure he knew he was going out, that Pasta was going to be staying in the yard for the rest of the day before quickly departing.

~*~

Arthur walked casually among the scores of other people crowded on the same, thin, gray slab of rock curtaining the wide black road on which hundreds of cars zoomed by, stopping for nothing but a simple red light. Individual, legible conversations merged and fused into an insistent, nonsensical babble that rose above the heads of the crowd. Tall, looming buildings rose on either side, glowering forbiddingly at the ant-like beings at their feet. The sun was almost gone, leaving only a desolate glow soon to be conquered by the night.

Truthfully, Arthur had no idea where to start. The city was huge and what he's trying to find (the source of the interference between his communication with the higher-ups) could be anywhere. If he could just find that source, he might just be able to find something else about his adversaries.

Well, he supposed, the most logical place to start would be the office in which the demon worked.

Deciding upon the idea, he quickly headed towards the company in which the office resided. He hadn't really wanted to return to the asylum thinly disguised as a workplace but he supposed some things just can't be helped.

He rode the elevator up and slipped in upon reaching the designated floor. He didn't feel up to having anyone he knew spot him and hinder him from his goal.

There was a considerably less amount of people now since the workday has ended for almost everyone. Still, there were people milling about finishing up last minute work. The problem now was finding out the demon's work station, which could be solved quite easily.

"Excuse me miss," he said, stopping a woman walking by with a file in her hands.

The woman paused and smiled easily at him.

"Yes? How may I help you?"

"Ah… I'm looking for Riyu Nyte…"

"Riyu Nyte?" she repeated, appearing to think. "I think he left work already."

"No that's okay," Arthur said quickly. "I don't need to actually meet him. I'm just looking for something that he forgot to give me."

"Oh I see, but maybe you should wait until he comes back. It's not very nice to snoop through his things," she said with a slight disapproving tone.

"I know I'm sorry but it's extremely critical…" he said, hoping the sound of distress underlying his placid voice might convince her.

"Mmm…"

The woman considered this, looking from him to the cubicles to her left.

"All right," she said, finally conceding.

Arthur let out a breath of relief, smiling broadly. "Thank you, miss."

"I'm not 'miss,'" she replied, puffing slightly. "I'm Yukimo and I'm coming with you to make sure you're not gonna poke around my boyfriend's things. I'm sorry but I hope you'll understand when I say people love to pry especially since they see Riyu as some kind of mystery waiting to be solved." She snorted and rolled her eyes.

"B-boyfriend?" he stammered incredulously, inwardly congratulating himself for keeping his lower jawbone firmly connected with the rest of his skull.

"Yeah," she said slowly, eyeing him in mock offense. "Is it so strange for a girl like me to have a boyfriend?"

"N-no. Of course not!" Arthur amended hurriedly.

A boyfriend. The demon even went so far as to get a girlfriend to blend in… It still seemed rather pointless though… But if Yukimo is Riyu's girlfriend, maybe he can glean as much information as he can. He didn't expect much though considering Riyu was a demon in disguise and therefore a tight-lipped, chronic liar.

"Excuse me for my earlier reaction but Mr. Nyte just didn't seem to be the kind of person to have a girlfriend," he started amiably as Yukimo started leading him to Riyuu's cubicle.

"Oh? Judging a book by its cover are we now?" Yukimo teased. "No, Riyuu is a great guy. He just doesn't like to show it." She shook her head in amusement.

"Ah… Well if you've, so to speak, cracked open the book, then you must have known him for quite a time?"

"Of course! I get the liberty of knowing him for about five years now!" Yukimo proclaimed proudly.

Arthur tensed but kept the smile on his face.

Five years? He could hardly believe his ears. _Five years?_

Wait. But it doesn't fit. Riyu is, indeed, a demon but not the ringleader and therefore not the escaped demon. Escaping Hell and evading Heaven's notice would involve an incredible amount of energy and someone with so much energy would most certainly be made leader. Riyu, however, isn't that powerful. He might just be one of those demons sent to replace the soul of the body. If that was the case, why did he deflect and make a bet with him secretly, without his demon companions? A renegade? Or maybe he really was sent to him on the basis of his loyalty to the group. If that was so, then why such loyalty?

Mystery indeed. The demon has Arthur going around in circles and he still haven't unearthed anything new except the fact that he has been on Earth for at least five years, apparently gotten a girlfriend, and made a bet with him. Perhaps he should think of this when he has more clues. For now, he has to focus on rifling through Riyu's things without making it seem like he's snooping.

"Okay here we are. I hope whatever you're looking for is here," Yukimo said, stopping in front of a neat, orderly, bare desk. The only thing on the deserted furniture was the computer monitor, a container for pens, and a thin stack of papers on the left. Not much of a clue mine.

Arthur shuffled through the few pieces of paper on the desktop, glancing through the papers.

Business plan, a monthly report, a photocopied manuscript of some kind, and a statistical report… Nothing suspicious at all.

"Did you find what you're looking for?" Yukimo inquired.

Arthur sighed and shook his head. If he wanted to find what he's looking for, his best bet is his computer but with Yukimo around, it's not like he could access it. He'll have to do it another way then.

He turned around to face Yukimo, hands in his pocket.

"No. I think he might have taken it with him," Arthur said, the fingers of his right hand twitching as he chanted angelic in his mind.

"Oh that's too bad. Well, what are you looking for? Maybe I can ask him to give it to you tomorrow."

"No it's okay. I guess it can wait another day…"

It was difficult to distract Yukimo long enough for him to stay standing there a little while longer and find the correct magic phrases to work his spell properly at the same time. He just needs to concentrate a little more…

Yukimo looked at him in concern.

"Are you okay? You look a little bit out of it. Are you sure you want to wait until tomorrow? I can call him right now and tell him to get his ass here this instant," she said, taking her cell phone out of her pocket.

"No really. It's okay."

A faint tingling sensation stemmed at the tips of his fingers, slowly spreading out to the rest of his hand like a network of fine roots. He could feel flecks of his magic starting to solidify into his hand. Just a few seconds more…

"I was just… thinking about tomorrow. Ah… I guess I'll be able to get by."

Yukimo nodded. "Okay if you're sure. But if Riyu gets you in trouble because of his idiocy, I'll force him to get on his knees and beg your forgiveness."

Arthur snorted which became a low chuckle which turned into genuine laugh and he wasn't sure whether he should be laughing or not. The thought of this very human and mortal girl forcing a demon down on his knees for the forgiveness of an angel… It was just too amusing for words!

"What don't think I can do it?" Yukimo asked in mock offense but she was grinning broadly at his mirth.

"No, no. I believe you," he said jokingly.

Finished.

"Alright let's go then."

"Okay," Arthur agreed.

She turned to leave and the second she wasn't facing him anymore, he swiftly took his hand out of his pocket and flung the handful of silvery powder he had been forming at the monitor.

The powder coated the air with a fine silvery mist. Eventually, in a span of five seconds, the mist thinned and melted into the screen leaving not one trace in the air.

After taking another quick glance around to make sure all the powder had disappeared, he quickly followed Yukimo back towards the elevators in front of which they said their good-byes.

~*~

The first thing Arthur did when he arrived back home was summon his golden ring. He sat down on his green Victorian armchair and concentrated on pouring magic into the enchanted object. A glowing white light slowly began circling around the circumference of the ring, crawling along to reach its point of origin. By the time the line had made a complete circle, Arthur could feel the creeping of fatigue, the beginnings of the effects of using two advanced spells almost consecutively.

Shaking it off, Arthur focused his attention on the black that had taken over the circle within the ring. A green square faded into view, pulsating and he pressed against its center.

"Now let us see what you are hiding, Nyte," Arthur murmured to himself as he felt the threads of his magic shimmering, woven intricately like a delicate spider's web through the demon's digital information, leaving no place untouched. Of course, although he was looking through private data from the computer, he still didn't expect to find much after all, demons don't tend to write down their diabolical plans or communicate using mortals' electronics but it never hurt to check.

The first place he would check was, of course, the demon's e-mail.

A list blinked into existence, letters in bright yellow on the black background on which it had appeared. There weren't many items on the list and the ones that did appeared seemed to have no relations to anything Arthur was looking for. There were notices, announcements, news, and e-mails from a YukimoCS. No big prize for guessing who the e-mails are from. There was one unopened e-mail from a mysterious DeptofInspection.

Arthur probed the e-mail and read the message.

_To: Riyu Nyte,_

_You have a meeting scheduled on 11/19/20XX at 5:30 P.M. Please arrive on the appointed date on time. This meeting is mandatory._

November the nineteenth was on the week of preparations for Mr. Langdon's arrival… Who exactly was this e-mail from? There were no meetings during that week, given a tenth priority to the other things members of the office had to handle and from the looks of it, it's a meeting for a different company. A different company huh?

Leaning back on his armchair he exited and proceeded to examine other things. Websites he had been on and saved documents but they came out fruitless, having everything completely to do with business and nothing personal at all. The only clue Arthur had managed to uncover was the e-mail from the mysterious other company which he had an inkling of what it might be.

Truthfully, the e-mail was not much to go by. Sure it raised his suspicions about SM Company being involved with whatever scheme the demons had decided to come up with but it could've just been nothing. Just a simple e-mail that just happened to have been sent on the same week Mr. Langdon was due to appear. Furthermore, it didn't tell him who and how many were involved. There may be a lot of demons but a whole company couldn't possibly house _only_ their kind. There were bound to be humans mixed up in it too and perhaps even an angel. If he had to guess, the scheduled meeting was for demons only and the e-mail was perhaps written by a human to ensure they didn't forget, not knowing it wasn't necessary anyway because of their magical communications. If SM Company _was_ involved, even if only partially, it'd be best to look around the area.

Then, there was still the matter of Yellow Fields which is what most likely landed Gilbert in the hospital. It might also be good to investigate this too but it could be that SM Company and Yellow Fields were totally unrelated. The car crash may have occurred on the same day Mr. Langdon was in the office but it could just be coincidence. Just like how a murder is happening somewhere sometime on the same day someone else is having his birthday. Heck, it might not even have been Yellow Fields that tried to kill Gilbert but SM Company but what would their motive have been? It wasn't like Gilbert had been digging into _their_ matters. As far as Arthur could see, there were three possibilities: SM Company was involved Yellow Fields is involved, or both companies were involved. So far, it was looking a lot like the third option but he should investigate into this matter a little more before reaching a conclusion. Right now, it'd be best to take this one step at a time, starting with the e-mail.

Time to head out yet again.

Standing up, he sent a shock of magic through his threads and the network self-terminated, leaving no trace of ever being there.

~*~

The darkness of the night brought about with it a double life. It was a seductress of the wild, mistress of mysteries, tempter of the violent, and cover of the evil. For Arthur, the night was much more dangerous than simply getting drunk and going home with someone. It was even more dangerous than the possibility of getting murdered. The night was the time of day demons loved best; it was the queen of demons. The slinking coyotes could be anywhere and Arthur knew with approaching their territory came the risks. He'd be wise to disguise as much of his magic as he can, especially in his true angel form.

He stood at the edge of the curb, a river of pedestrians meandering their way home or to some other place for the night, guided by the bright illuminating glow of the streetlights and cheerful window displays. Yet on the other side stood a tall office building that reached to caress the night sky, its windows and walls concealed in shadows that amusedly dared anyone to approach. A single lamppost timidly arose from the desolate sidewalk, the darkness smothering any light it might have been able to produce.

Arthur bravely flew across, landing on a short flight of steps, facing a wide area decorated with hedges that lay before the dark, glass skyscraper.

If his assumptions are correct, this building should have something that suppressed his ability to communicate with any other heavenly being. It would have to be big and something that can be long-standing. His first guess was the statue of the logo in the middle of the oversized porch: A long line that circled around an abstract shape with its end bent upwards towards the sky, a star balanced neatly on top. However, as soon as the thought passed his mind, it was shot down. It looked nothing like a magical symbol.

It could be in the building itself but something that large would take up too much room, even in a structure as large as this one.

But maybe…

He quickly flew up onto the top of the lamppost as soon as the revelation hit him.

Just as he thought.

"Arthur? Is that you?"

Startled, Arthur fell off the thin ledge of the lamp and landed painfully on the ground. When he was oriented enough, he looked up, annoyed only to be met with the shocked face of Alfred, gaping down at him with wide blue eyes.

"Um… Arthur I know you're obsessed with fairies and stuff but… do you really have to… dress like that?"

Arthur scowled and stood up, brushing his white tunic off indignantly.

"I'm sorry if I don't dress up to your tastes Alfred," he said in a snarky tone. "Next time, I'll remember to dress up as a ridiculous cowboy."

Alfred, not seeming to catch the sarcasm, nodded approvingly. "Well as long as you know." Then quickly said, "And cowboys are never ridiculous. They're awesome!"

After making sure not even a speck of dirt still stuck to his clothes, he straightened up fully and regarded Alfred impatiently.

"Um… Arthur? Can you kinda, ya know, change? It's kind of embarrassing to see you dressed like that," Alfred said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well you won't have to worry about that Alfred," Arthur replied hotly, temper starting to boil over. "Because I'm currently in angel form and no one can… see… me…"

He stared at Alfred, who shifted uncomfortably.

"Are you sure you're okay Arthur? You're starting to scare me," Alfred said, laughing nervously.

"You can see me," Arthur said bluntly.

"Well yeah Arthur. It's hard to miss a guy wearing fake wings and a dress."

Arthur's baffled look gave way to a slight tinge of annoyance, replying, "It's not a dress," before giving his head a slight shake to stop before he got sidetracked. "But that's not the point. The point is you can see me."

"Yeah," Alfred said, raising a perplexed brow. "I mean, I know you have weird hobbies and I know not much people would really come this way at this time but do you really have to dress like that and climb up a lamppost?"

"How is it that you can see me? I'm in angel form, I'm sure of it. My magic isn't repressed and I can move my wings freely…" Arthur mumbled, ignoring the man in front of him.

"Arthur, are you sure you're alright? Did you hit your head or something?" Alfred asked in slight concern, waving his hand in front of the Brit's face.

The action succeeded in getting attention and Arthur smacked his hand away in irritation.

"I'm fine Alfred, thank you for your concern," he said, huffing.

"If you're sure," the America said before eyeing Arthur suspiciously. "What were you doing up the lamppost anyway?"

"That's none of your concern," Arthur said briskly. "Now if you would kindly go on your way to wherever you needed to go."

"Alright fine… Are you sure you don't want to change outta that stupid outf—"

"Just go!"

"Alright, alright. Geez. Someone needs more tea-stuff."

And with that, Alfred continued down the street, whistling.

Arthur sighed. He could have done without that little interruption. It was strange Alfred could see him in this form though… Well, never mind that. He found what he needed it his speculations were proven beyond a shadow of a doubt: SM Company _is_ the nesting site of demons.

The aerial view of the front of the company confirmed it. The zigzagging hedges, the alignment of benches and flowers not to mention the addition of the statue, all made up an archaic demonic circle of sealing.

A rebellious roar of unsettlement clashed in his body. If this thing was here, how long, exactly, had this group been here? To be able to influence the placement of items to halt all forms of communication to Heaven, there must be at least one demon powerful enough to do so. It wasn't like this popped up overnight either. It had to have taken time to build something like this.

Arthur wondered if any angel had ever been unlucky enough to stray within the boundaries of the spell and found himself unable to call for help when a group of demons attacked.

A spider of chill crept along his spine and a small part of him suddenly had an urge to scream. The full weight of the situation suddenly burst forth from its place behind a white veil.

He was the sole defender amidst a dim forest of laughing wolves.

He was alone.

* * *

**A/N**: You know, I oft wonder if how many people are even _attempting_ to figure stuff out instead of just reading and going "oh I see!" as Arthur hands out the answers on a silver platter. I've dropped more than one hint already and more than enough questions to chew on. Not enough to complete even part of the puzzle but enough so that you should already know certain things... I mean with the pace this story is going, it'll take a while before the whole thing unravels so you might as well crunch your brain a little. While this fic is designed for the pleasure of the audience, it _is _still a _mystery_ story and it kind of beats the purpose of reading a mystery story just to read the solution without the slightest attempt at figuring anything out. Well, since I'm such a nice and charitable person (har) I'll give you all a little hint (but not really) that, I guess, could be applied to many mystery stories. It'll fare you well for past, present, and future:

Don't always believe everything you see.

It's ultimately up to you to determine whether to take something at face value or whether there's something deeper going on, whether something is important or not. Remember, Arthur is still human in many ways. Even if he's an angel, he's not perfect. Plus, he doesn't have the added benefit of seeing things through others' points of views.

Well I've said enough. Toodles!


	17. Meet Again

_**Chapter 17**__**:**_ Meet Again

* * *

"You…"

The room was deadly silent. All eyes fell on Veneziano, who shifted uncomfortably under their intense scrutiny.

Romano's expression constantly shifted from stunned, to contemplative, to a stern frown, and back again. Antonio remained standing from his chair, disbelief carved deep into his face, looking at Veneziano with wonder as if he were some strange yet awesome thing that flew into the room.

Their moment of amazement hovered in the room but then it was gone.

"BASTARD!"

Romano's roar seemed to shake the room and Veneziano jumped and squeaked, hiding behind Ludwig.

"Romano I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't hurt meee!" he begged, already starting to cry.

His twin started to stride across the room and Veneziano let out a loud scream and ran for it.

"You asshole! Come back here! I'm going to _kill_ you!" Romano bellowed, quickly giving chase. The hallways immediately filled with shouts, crashes, and curses, fading out as the source of havoc moved further and further away.

The room returned to its blissfully quiet state.

Gilbert and Ludwig turned questioningly at Antonio, still standing only now, instead of a dazed look, a stupid smile had taken its place.

"Want to explain now?" Gilbert asked, raising a brow and jerking his thumb toward the doorway.

"Oh huh?" Antonio said intelligently.

"I mean, what's up with that. Why's there two Veneziano's," the bed-ridden German reiterated.

"Veneziano?" Antonio's eyebrows scrunched together quizzically. "His name is Feliciano."

"That's not what he said."

"Oh well his real name is Feliciano. Don't know why he would change it." The Spaniard pondered the oddity for a moment longer before shrugging and deciding to drop it for now. "Well either way, Veneziano or Feliciano, he's Romano's little twin brother."

"The grumpy, tomato-obsessed, prissy little prick has a kid brother?" Gilbert exclaimed dubiously. "You never told me that before." He isn't pouting. He's too awesome for that. He was just… angry.

"Yeah well," Antonio said sheepishly, looking apologetic, "Romano doesn't really like to talk about it and it's kind of taboo. He doesn't show it but he really loves his brother."

A giant crash sounded coincidently just below along with a thundering roar and a terrified shriek.

"Oh yeah I can just feel the love," Gilbert snorted sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"That's just Romano's way of showing he's in disbelief and I guess relief as well. He's just trying to tell Feliciano not to scare him again."

"Really? Then what does he do if he's angry?"

"Um…"

"I think we should find Veneziano, or Feliciano, and your friend before they wreck the hospital. This is not a playground for them to trample around," Ludwig interrupted, walking towards Gilbert's bedside before stopping, staring at the top of his head.

"Gilbert… Why is there a bird on your head?"

Indeed, a small, yellow bird had made itself comfortable on Gilbert's nest of messy silver hair. It peeped at Ludwig and snuggled further into its home.

His brother looked up as if attempting to see for himself before cracking a wide grin.

"It's Gilbird! Very cool! He flew into my room one day and just stayed around me. I'm just that awesome," Gilbert cheered just as the little bird, Gilbird, chirped again as if cheering with him.

Ludwig sighed. "Gilbert, I hope you aren't thinking about bringing it—"

"Him."

"—Him home. Pasta is enough as it is. I don't want something else that could cause trouble nor something Pasta could possibly kill."

"Aw but c'mon!" Gilbert whined. "Gilbird hasn't even flown beyond a ten foot radius from me! He's too attracted to my awesome self."

"Gilbert…" Ludwig started.

"Maybe you should let him keep him," Antonio interrupted. "I mean, that bird has been keeping Gilbert company when no one was there so I think he deserves a chance."

Gilbird peeped in agreement.

Ludwig sighed as another crash sounded from below along with a long horde of shouts, presumably from the duo of troublemakers and a crowd of doctors and nurses chasing after them.

"Look, we'll talk about this later. First, let's check you out of the hospital then go after Veneziano and Romano."

Gilbert let out an ear to ear grin as if he won some fabulous trophy from a championship. "You got it!"

After a few more last minute preparations which included stuffing down Gilbert's get-well gifts into a bag provided by Antonio, the group moved into the hallway to be met with an eerie, almost total silence. Not a single person lurked the empty hallways.

The three quickly moved into the empty elevator and down to the ground floor. It shuddered slightly as it came to a halt and with a cheerful ding, opened its shiny metallic doors in welcome to the total war beyond. Noise and chaos exploded upon them with a boom, like a bombshell that had just been set off and the trio stared at the scene for a few moments longer, fascinated, as if they were watching a movie instead. But the daze was gone in an instant and they snapped back into reality.

There were visibly two groups that, at first glance, seemed to be conflicting against each other. On closer inspection, it was just the opposite. Romano, easily spotted by the ant hill of people surrounding him, was screaming Italian at the opposite side of the room, armed with a steel pole with an IV bag still very much attached to it and fighting vigorously against the pile of doctors, nurses, and security guards. In the other half of the large room, the area Romano seemed intent on destroying, was Veneziano, shaking and cowering against a wall with a barrier of people standing around him. Chairs, pictures, potted plants, papers, pens among other items were strewn about like the remnants of ammunition shells and the bodies of those who fought. Even with the swarm of people already stuffed into the room more and more seemed to be rushing through the doorway as the seconds passed by. A deafening roar completely and totally enveloped everything, acting as a transmission blocker to any speech.

If only Vash was there.

"Antonio, you go grab your crazy Italian nut and I'll go grab my lazy Italian freeloader, okay?" Gilbert shouted above the overly loud din of the lobby.

Antonio nodded his agreement and the small party of three split ways.

Reaching Romano was easy enough. All Antonio had to do was go with the flow and move with the crowd with only a minimal amount of pushing. It was less than simple on Ludwig and Gilbert's side. The barrier of people that surrounded poor Feliciano didn't yield as easily to a measly two people going against what felt like a crowd of a hundred but they made it eventually and, after a bit of coaxing and reassurances that they weren't going to let Romano strangle him with his intestines, they managed to pry him off the wall. Soon after, when the Italian hurricane had calmed down thanks to Antonio's efforts, it was quite understandable they got booted out of the hospital with, luckily, only a warning.

"Well that was great," Gilbert said happily as if they had not just been kicked out by an angry mob of medical practitioners armed with needles and admission papers to mental institutions.

"Let's just go," Ludwig muttered, turning towards the car when he was suddenly halted when Romano cried, "Wait!"

The German looked back to Veneziano's newly rediscovered brother questioningly.

"Yes?"

Romano eyed him seriously, seemingly contemplating something before saying, "You look a lot like that little blond bastard I knew when I was a kid. What the hell's your name?"

_What a polite way of asking someone's name_, Ludwig thought wryly but answered anyway.

Romano raised a skeptic brow. "Yeah? Well guess you're not him but I get annoyed anyway just looking at your face."

"Fratello that's not very nice," Veneziano said timidly.

His brother immediately rounded on him and looked about to scream something but Ludwig, feeling sorry for the poor Italian for having to put up with such abuse from his brother, interrupted by saying, "Since I've told you my name, I believe it's only right if you introduce yourself."

Romano turned to him and glared as if telling him he knew exactly what he was trying to do but nevertheless, answered. "It's Romano. I thought you would know by now, potato bastard," he said hotly.

_Potato bastard? Where on Earth did he get that from?_

As if sensing his confusion, Romano jerked his thumb towards Gilbert. "You're supposed to be his brother right? So you're German so you're a potato bastard," he said as though it explained everything.

"I think it's about time we moved on home," Antonio cut in, stepping up next to his Italian charge.

"But I'm not finished with my idiot brother!" he protested loudly, looking towards his aforementioned twin sharply.

Antonio glanced down at him and could almost feel the frothing energy with which he wished to pursue Feliciano's answers but if he didn't calm down, the resulting confrontation may turn ugly. "Romano, I know Feliciano owes an explanation and well, I want to know what he says too but we have work to do at our stall and it's getting late. Why don't we wait until another time? I'm sure Gilbert will be able to call us when they have free time," he coaxed.

Romano swiveled towards Antonio so fast it was like he was never facing the group in front of him to begin with.

"No," he snarled in a low tone that rang out and echoed in the quiet parking lot making it absolutely clear he was not going to back down from talking to his brother, whatever hell may come.

Antonio looked almost helplessly at his stubborn companion. If he were to continue to insist they return home, Romano will not hesitate to go without a fight. His glaring eyes were filled with a mysterious light ignited by the sunset, an undecipherable expression settled upon his face, deep purple shadows lingering and veiling him in its depths. If anyone could understand him better than Feliciano, it was Antonio and right now, Romano was trying to hide his confusion and sense of loss behind a mask of thin agitation. Antonio knew better than anybody how he had desperately yearned to discover the meaning behind the grotesque murder of his little brother he had struggled to understand, agonized over it for months and which haunted his dreams and sometimes his thoughts. Romano needed the answers he had secretly hoped for and attempted to pry out in vain for years before he finally withdrew into a shell of resignation, suffering in the frustration that overflowed from the useless blocks of dead-end walls. This was just too important and, temper and a resulting fight or not, Antonio had no choice but to concede and agree.

"Alright," the Spaniard said quietly, seriously. "Alright. If that's what you want."

Romano simply turned back towards the group of three and barked out, "We're going to talk in that place potato bastard number two likes to hang out in."

"I'm not a potato bastard! I'm the awesome Gilbert you spoiled princess," Gilbert retorted indignantly but nevertheless, started heading towards the car.

Ludwig turned back towards Veneziano in concern. "Do you want to confront your brother like this?"

The Italian looked about ready to run again and he was shaking slightly but he nodded anyway. "I-I-I'll g-g-g-go."

"Are you sure? You're trembling."

Veneziano nodded again and slowly, step by unsteady step, also made his way towards the car with Ludwig in tow, who caught him three times when he tripped on his way to the vehicle.

* * *

The Dingy Diner had a fair amount of patrons that time of day who couldn't be bothered with making dinner that night. It had a hushed yet friendly air from the many interacting customers with friends or family. The five that silently took their seats, however, seemed to be in an entirely different dimension that set them apart from all the other happy people. A cloud of tense atmosphere floated over their heads, crackling with the potential energy of a thunderhead. They placed their orders, all of which were drinks save Veneziano who ordered nothing.

Their drinks came quickly and as soon as the waiter was out of earshot, Romano, never one to heed ambiance or the right timing, immediately growled out, "Spill it. _Now_."

Veneziano let out a small whimper and seemed to shrink into his seat under the heat of his brother's glare.

Antonio put a hand on Romano's shoulder to calm him down at least slightly and looked towards Veneziano sitting across from him patiently.

"I-I'm a g-guardian angel," he mumbled under his breath.

"Speak louder idiot!"

"Shh Romano, if you keep yelling at him, he's never going to speak out," Antonio chided. Romano crossed his arms and huffed, waiting impatiently for Veneziano to get his nerve.

The younger Italian took a few minutes to relax before repeating himself.

"I'm a guardian angel."

"You're a what? Bullshit!"

"Romano!"

"B-but it's true!" Veneziano insisted meekly.

"Like hell it's true!" Romano raged. "That's a lame lie even coming from you. Guardian angel? Yeah right!"

Veneziano floundered feebly for a response that wouldn't infuriate his brother even further but before he could, Ludwig spoke up, using the strict tone he reserved for people who didn't know when to stop.

"Look, I can't even begin to comprehend what it is like to be reunited with a dead brother but if you're going to continue treating Veneziano like this, we will leave. He doesn't have to answer to anything you ask," he snapped, sending a severe look towards Romano. "He's trying the best he can in this kind of situation and intimidating him isn't going to make him reply any quicker so either be patient or leave."

Romano shot a contemptuous look towards Ludwig but seemed to, surprisingly, comply.

Veneziano looked at Ludwig gratefully before turning back towards his waiting brother who seemed a little more willing to listen to his whole story.

"Um, well… I've been sent here by Heaven on an assignment…" He paused to make sure Romano wasn't going to interrupt again and when he didn't, he continued. "My assignment is to make Ludwig happy and if I complete it, I'll be turned into a full-fledged angel. My Overseer, the angel in charge of me, is here too and I'm supposed to report to him anything new…"

"Is that it?" Antonio asked.

Veneziano nodded. "It's a little hard to believe," he said lightly. "But please believe me. I wouldn't lie about something like this…"

A short silence followed.

"Then why haven't you looked for me?" Romano muttered bitterly, concentrating his glare down at his glass of orange soda. His pride fought against the growing hurt that twined his chest, trying to replace it with the one emotion he was most familiar with: anger.

Veneziano looked at him guiltily. "I couldn't. There are rules everyone in Heaven has to follow and one of them says we're not allowed to meet people from our past. I really did want to see you again Romano but…" He trailed off when he heard his brother mutter something under his breath.

"… Die?"

"Ve?"

"Why did you die?" he asked, suddenly vociferous again. His previous mood seemed to lift as quickly as morning fog and he was, once again, blazing with the audacity and usual vigor he confronted almost everyone with.

Veneziano squeaked and cried out, "I-I don't knoooow!"

"What do you mean you don't know you useless bastard? Who killed you and why?" Romano asked hotly, pursuing the topic like a starving stray dog would pursue a steak.

"I-I really d-don't know! Please don't hurt meeee! All I remember w-was a really t-tall, s-sc-scary guy!"

"That's not very helpful you idiot!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Can you two please lower your voices?" Ludwig growled. His voice, although lower, carried its command with crystal clearness and both immediately hushed but Romano continued to look witheringly at Veneziano, who clung onto Ludwig.

"Okay bastard. If you can't remember why and who, what _do_ you remember?"

"Um… I remember going to play by the river with Heiliges." Romano snorted at the name, muttering something in Italian under his breath but listened otherwise. "I made a flower crown for him and we played in the water. Then Heliges said he had to get something and ran back to Roderich's house." Veneziano tilted his head to the side a bit. "I waited for him under the willow tree but a tall man dressed in black suddenly appeared. I was scared so I ran… And that's all I can remember…"

"So, you don't remember the actual time you died?" Antonio asked slowly to which Veneziano nodded in reply.

A simultaneous thought ran through the table: _It's a good thing too._

"So you're saying a random guy just happened to come by in the middle of nowhere just to kill you? And you don't know why?" Romano asked again almost incredulously.

"No… I don't think so but I did see someone visit Roderich a few days before. He looked scary when he came out of the parlor after talking to him but he smiled and gave me candy!"

Romano groaned and smacked his forehead. "You idiot! How many times did I tell you not to take candy from strangers?"

"But I didn't eat it!"

"So is it really okay if we know about you now? You did say it's against the rules to meet us," Antonio asked worriedly.

"Well I'm not sure. I'll have to ask Arthur, my Overseer. He says meeting old friends and families aren't supposed to happen because angels are always assigned to places far away but… I hope I don't get in trouble… Arthur is scary when he's mad."

Romano rolled his eyes. "To you, _everyone's_ scary when they're mad."

"That's not true! Nonno is never scary when he's angry even when I accidentally ruined his portrait of nonna!"

His brother merely scoffed, leaning back on his seat and folding his arms. "Nonno was a con. The old stronzo wouldn't be scary even if he were the devil himself."

"Romano! Don't say that about nonno!" Veneziano cried.

"Yeah well I can say whatever I want about that damn figlio di puttana," Romano retorted unabashedly.

"You're just angry that he didn't take you with him when he went away for a while!"

The older Italian practically blazed at his brother's accusation. "That's not the reason why I hate him!"

"Then why?" Veneziano asked crossly.

"Because…!" Romano started to answer but at the last second, clamped his mouth shut, stewing in his frustration that only grew when he realized there was no way he could express his real thoughts without hurting his pride. And his pride was much more important than some stupid argument that wouldn't matter in the end anyway. "God I hate you!" he spat instead.

A tangible edgy atmosphere settled upon the group yet again as the Italian brothers remained locked in a silent argument.

"Ah…" Antonio sighed. "I think it's about time we left." He nudged the still-infuriated Romano as he stood from his seat. "Come on Romano. Let's get going."

Romano turned to Antonio and looked back at Veneziano as if longing to start up the fight again before quickly jumping from his chair and stalking out, slamming the diner door as he went.

Immediately after, Veneziano sunk in his seat and bit his lip, his eyes moist. He looked down on his lap and fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

The Spaniard looked sympathetically at him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's okay Feli. I'm sure he'll explain himself someday. Just be patient for a little while more, okay? You know he often doesn't mean the things he says so cheer up. He won't be angry with you for long."

Veneziano raised his head shyly and nodded slightly. Antonio cast him a wide smile, ruffled his hair and turned apologetically to the other two people seated. "I'm sorry for Romano's behavior. He's not always like this you know."

Gilbert snorted and spoke for the first time since the parking lot. "Yeah. I'm sure he's all kittens and rainbows at home."

"Ha ha ha! Well sometimes."

After a round of good-byes, Antonio left.

Ludwig turned to Veneziano, still looking saddened from his fight with his brother. "Do you want to leave now?" he asked concernedly. The younger twin nodded. "Come on then let's go."

Gilbert volunteered to chauffeur them back home and as he drove, chattered about the day's events. Gilbird had hunkered down on his mop of hair and fast asleep, unaware of his master's avid voice.

The sky had long darkened into night. Orange light from streetlamps flashed into the windows and illuminated the road in front of them in a splash of dull color.

Everything was wrapped up for the day and Veneziano participated in conversation with Gilbert, seemingly feeling better now from the earlier incident in the diner to which Ludwig felt a bit relieved. He didn't know what to make of Romano. The twin was such a polar opposite of the happy-go-lucky Veneziano and he wasn't sure he liked the way he treated his brother but it may be just the way the two had always been judging by the familiarity Veneziano and Antonio accepted this behavior. Gilbert and his relationship was completely different from theirs so maybe it was just that Ludwig could never imagine him treating Gilbert like that and vice versa that made the Vargas brothers' interaction seem odd. He did notice, despite Romano's callous and brash nature, the way he held his tongue, the look of uncertainty that flashed through his face when he looked like he was about to reply to Veneziano's question of why. It was the same look Gilbert sometimes wore when he wanted to say something to him but couldn't bring himself to because of his pride. The most important things _are_ always the hardest to say.

There was also the story about Veneziano's murder.

Apparently, he doesn't remember the exact gruesome detail of his own death. He knew about it but he had just blocked the experience from his mind.

_A relief_, Ludwig thought grimly. No child should ever have to go through something as horrific as being disemboweled especially someone like sensitive Veneziano who would break if he were to remember.

But there was still one thing that bothered Ludwig. It had almost nothing to do with neither the murder nor Veneziano's brother. It was something that bothered him ever since he first heard about it in the hospital and that was the reason for Veneziano's name change. For some obscure reason, he felt the urge to know, almost bordering on the right to know. Ludwig puzzled over the feeling that overcame him, the large gush of curiosity. It wasn't terribly important because whether Veneziano was Feliciano or not, he was still the same person but if he felt he needed to lie, there has to be a good reason. What caused him to throw away his old identity and take on a new name?

Ludwig shifted a little closer to the car door as Veneziano started gesturing wildly as he oft does when he is communicating while excited.

The sudden meeting with Romano along with the discovery of Veneziano's real name gave a wakeup call on just how little he really knew about Veneziano. His history, family, and friends were all a mystery and he had not the slightest inkling on the Italian's favorites. The only thing that Ludwig seemed to know is his talent for the arts and apparent personality and character. It put him off, now that he thought about it and, he had to admit to himself, a little guilty he didn't bother knowing his tentative friend a little better especially since Veneziano knew almost everything about him even if it all did come from a book. Not that he approved of the information written in its pages but Veneziano had not misused it as of yet as far as he could tell.

The few minutes it took to get back home only fed Ludwig's curiosity and he wasn't sure whether he should try prying. He was certain Veneziano wouldn't mind if he asked about himself. In fact, he would be enthusiastic. Perhaps he should try some time to get to know him a little better and ask him the question that kept tickling the back of his mind that for some reason seemed to have crowned itself as urgent.

Upon the arrival home, Gilbert was in much cheer, practically bouncing from the car, probably glad he was finally free from the hospital and back at the house. Veneziano followed after him and Ludwig trailed after the two more energetic people of the group.

"I'll start dinner right away ve!" Veneziano announced and went into the kitchen while Gilbert made a beeline upstairs.

Ludwig decided that if he wanted to ask his question, now would be the time to do so while Gilbert was temporarily gone.

He walked into the kitchen where Veneziano, not much to his surprise, was preparing to make pasta.

How to approach the subject?

"Veneziano," he started.

"Yes?" the Italian chirruped back.

Ludwig hesitated before he continued. "I've noticed that Antonio and Romano refer to you by a different name."

"Uh-huh! I changed it a long time ago when I went to Heaven," Veneziano told him agreeably.

"Why did you change it?"

Veneziano hummed as he prepared the sauce. It was alfredo this time.

"Well… I used to live in a mansion owned by a man named Roderich and his wife, Elizabeta. I did work around their home. They're really nice but Roderich can be scary sometimes but Elizabeta was always very kind to me. It was while I was living there that I met my best friend, Heiliges. He was the only other one my age for miles so we played a lot together. It was lonely in that big mansion without nonno, Romano, or Antonio anymore and I missed them. It made me sad to be apart from them but being around Heiliges made me happy. He was one of my only friends and I loved him a lot.

When I died, I was scared because I was afraid the tall man would go after Heiliges. I tried to find him and I heard a loud splash from the river and I knew the man had done something bad to him. The water flows slowly near Roderich's house but it slopes down a hill after a while and it goes very fast. By the time I got there, he was already gone. I tried looking for him up and down the river but I couldn't find him. I thought he drowned but he didn't go to Heaven with me so I thought he might still be alive… The river carried him away somewhere but I didn't know where and I couldn't go after him because an angel came to take me to Heaven. It was sad, not being able to find him but I thought, the river was like a canal and a canal leads you to where you want to be the most and I wanted to be with Heiliges the most of all. I wanted to keep the hope that I would meet him again someday so I renamed myself Veneziano, after Venezia, the City of Canals, as a promise to find the canal that would lead me to Heiliges sort of like the red threads Kiku told me about." Veneziano finished with a soft giggle and taste tested the sauce before moving to finish the last preparations for pasta.

Ludwig remained standing in near one of the chairs of the table. He gazed at Veneziano's back, his mind fogging up with a haze. How come some of the descriptions Veneziano told him sounded so familiar…? The river especially.

_Cold! He was going to drown! And poor sweet, kind, innocent Feliciano was... his love was… was… _NO! SOMEBODY… _**HELP HER**_!

Warmth. He was in the warm kitchen with Veneziano humming a jolly tune by the stove.

Ludwig stared down at the table, hands clenched on the chair back. That icy water that had hit him as if someone had splashed him with a bucket of freezing water seemed too vivid to be merely memory. It was like it had happened before and the fathomless desperation and profound anguish he felt…

He took a deep breath and relaxed his tense frame. It seems his memory was starting to blur a bit from the time Gilbert found him by the river with the time he spent in the orphanage and afterwards. It was just coincidence that Heiliges had also fallen into a river as he did. The fact that Veneziano's river had evoked memory was startling and perplexing, however. It was rare that anything would be able to provoke recollections of the past. He had long buried it and moved on. He had no need for such bitter memories.

By the time dinner was proclaimed ready, Ludwig had already banished it from his mind but not completely. Pieces and shards still hovered about the back of his mind and they refused to be swept out like broken glass, implanting themselves firmly and waited quietly.

* * *

**A/N**: Wow I'm pretty satisfied with this chapter and I think my writing has improved slightly. Or did it? I would like to think so.

**Translations:**

Nonno(a) - Grandpa(ma)

Stronzo - Asshole

Figlio di puttana - Son of a bitch


	18. To Whom It May Concern

**A/N**: Hey everyone! Another chapter coming at you! Before you begin, I would like to warn people that there's a **slight questioning about an aspect in religion that might offend**. I trust that won't be a problem with everybody but I want to make absolutely sure.

I also have two things to address after this chapter. They're a bit long so please have patience and thank you in advance for reading through them so I'll see you at the end!

* * *

_**Chapter 18:**_ To Whom It May Concern

* * *

He wasn't getting enough rest, he knew, and it was starting to attract the attention of Alfred, Matthew, Francis, Veneziano… pretty much everybody. Heck even the people he didn't even know sensed the dark clouds over his head and they made sure to keep well and away from him, not that Arthur was complaining.

His mind felt heavy and his body felt sluggish. If it weren't for the fact he had to come to work, he would have stayed in bed all day although he wasn't sure what that'd do for him. He found out that almost every time he tried to let his brain dive into the abyss of unconsciousness, visions of demons would take over, in dreams and not.

Arthur shifted restlessly in his swivel chair and fidgeted absently with the pen in his hand. He couldn't help it. He was just so anxious about the whole disturbing situation with the, metaphorically speaking, sword dangling over the world's head, that he couldn't rest even if someone decided to use tranquilizers on him.

He sighed.

The door abruptly slammed open and a whirlwind of Alfred barreled in.

"Hey Arthur! I got—"

A pen smacked him square on the forehead.

Silence ensued.

Alfred looked down upon the fallen pen a moment before he stooped to pick the writing instrument up from the floor all the while looking towards Arthur oddly, watching as he scrambled to regain his composure upon recognizing him. His secretary and assistant had jumped so violently in his chair that the pen he held was accidentally flung across the room.

"Ah… Arthur? Are you okay? You've been jumpy lately," Alfred inquired, walking over to the startled man's desk and dropping his pen back onto the wooden surface.

"I'm fine," Arthur said curtly, coughing embarrassedly into his fist. "Just give me the file so I can start doing your work for you."

"But… This isn't a file Arthur. It's the papers you asked for like ten minutes ago," Alfred slowly corrected, looking down at his secretary suspiciously.

"Oh… Well then, ahem, thank you for your help,"

Alfred handed over the papers but lingered in front of Arthur's desk as he flipped through the documents, green eyes trailing almost distractedly over the text, distant and dozy. After a while, Arthur sighed quietly, tossed the papers back onto his desk with a soft thwap, and rubbed tired fingers against weary eyes.

"Yes Alfred?" he prompted when Alfred remained an immovable and unignorable presence in the room.

"Um, yeah. 'Bout those papers…"

"Yes?"

"You're reading them upside down."

Arthur blinked and looked down at the flat sheets of white wood and indeed, just as Alfred had said, the words were wrong way up.

Oh. Well huh.

"You sure you're okay?" Alfred pressed persistently.

"There is—"

"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that," Alfred interrupted, waving his hand dismissively as if to swat away the half-baked answer.

The Brit snapped his mouth shut and glared.

Oh how rude! If there's one thing he hates, it's being interrupted. And that disregarding gesture! How on Earth did such an uncouth behavior fester under his care?

"C'mon! Why can't you just tell me what's wrong?" Alfred whined, falling gracelessly on the chair in front of Arthur's desk. "I mean I already know you have a problem so why not just tell me what's up?"

"Because it's personal and therefore, none of your bloody business," Arthur retorted irately.

"You never tell me anything," the other complained, crossing his arms and pouting childishly.

"And you never do your work so we're even," his secretary shot back coolly, picking up his papers again, this time right side up, to read through again. "Now stop being so immature and go back to work."

"Don't wanna."

Arthur narrowed his eyes at Alfred, zeroing in on Alfred's blues which were trying to evade his gaze. "Alfred, stop this nonsense now and go… Before I do something drastic," he threatened.

The American's eyes suddenly locked challengingly onto Arthur's, heat burning in their depths.

"Make me old man," he defied daringly.

"You—"

And for the second time that day, the office door slammed open and, for the second time that day, interrupted his sentence.

"Arthur!"

Sighing in slight frustration at his inability to finish sentences anymore, Arthur leveled a stern look at Veneziano, who shifted uncomfortably in the doorway when he realized barging in wasn't such a great idea after all.

"Yes?" Arthur asked curtly.

"I—um… I think it could wait," his charge said meekly, shrinking back and trying to slide back out of the door as if doing so would erase his presence from ever entering the room in the first place.

"No. We're done here," Arthur said, looking pointedly at Alfred to go into his own private section of office beyond his desk.

"Eh? We are? No we're not."

And of course, the hint flew so high over Alfred's head, it orbited Earth.

Arthur sighed again impatiently. "Just get out of here git. I need to speak to Veneziano."

"Oh so you want to talk to him but not me," Alfred said stubbornly, looking like a petulant child.

The Brit groaned and if it weren't so painful and embarrassing, he would have smacked his head against the table too for good measure. Why must Alfred make everything so difficult?

"Alfred please just go," he entreated.

"Ah fine," Alfred finally, _finally_ conceded, getting up from the chair and moving into his office section. He muttered discontentedly all the while about stingy old British men before being cut off by the closing of his door. Arthur decided to ignore him.

"Well? What do you have to tell me?"

Veneziano squeaked, looking at the irritated Overseer apprehensively. Arthur tried to relax himself because he knew the "scarier" he looked, the less willing Veneziano is going to tell him whatever he had to tell and the more time this will take up. However, try as he might, he could only calm down fractionally.

The Italian fidgeted and looked about ready to bolt but Arthur caught his intentions. He was frustrated and his patience has been sorely rubbed down like an old eraser the past couple days. It didn't help that Veneziano had repeatedly attempted to tell him something but wimped out at the last second only to approach him again to repeat the cycle. No. He was having none of that today. He's going to force his charge to speak even if it killed him.

"Veneziano, sit down," Arthur said, speaking quietly, hoping that doing so would reign in his temper for a little longer.

Veneziano complied albeit a bit shakily. He sat stiffly in his chair, fiddling with the hem of his shirt and trying not to make eye contact. He looked like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar awaiting his parents' punishment.

"So, what is it you want to tell me? You've been approaching and running from me and frankly, it's annoying to say the least."

Sensing the tiredness and aggravation yet the self-restraint Arthur had tied his emotions with, Veneziano decided to come clean before Arthur's rope of control snapped.

"Um… R—Romano and Antonio saw me," he confessed hurriedly, the words tumbling over one another into a barely legible sentence.

He seemed to be preparing for a meteor to fall on him the way he flinched and cowered into the chair.

"Oh. Is that all? Well it's fine. No big deal," Arthur said flippantly.

"R—really? So I'm not in trouble?" Veneziano asked tentatively yet brightly, happy he wasn't in any big trouble. What a relief! Arthur wasn't going to angry with him! That would've been scary, especially with the way his mood was the last few days.

"No, you're not in trouble. Actually, it seems I've fallen into the same situation as you. It would be hypocritical of me to punish you when my friends have seen me too."

Veneziano radiated relief, his jittery expression replaced by his usual dozy one.

"Ah… Okay then."

"Not okay then, Veneziano. Remember that meeting old acquaintances isn't supposed to happen! But I've been so busy lately that it's the least of my concerns at the moment. Besides, if Heaven made this little mistake then we're obviously not to blame for this. I doubt we'll get into any trouble."

Veneziano tilted his head curiously. "Arthur? Um… actually I have something else to ask you."

"Hm?"

"Well…Can Heaven really make mistakes like that?"

There was a pause.

"I… don't know," Arthur finally replied truthfully, inwardly a bit stunned at the question.

_Can_ Heaven make mistakes? It was Heaven after all. It's supposed to be perfect but so far, it seemed as though it might not be as perfect as he thought. Maybe Heaven can make mistakes too. Maybe it was because he was taught practically his whole life that Heaven was perfect that it made him dismiss mistakes as possible. He hasn't really thought about it but now that the topic was brought up, he wondered how he could have missed such an obvious question.

"Oh… So you wouldn't know why Ludwig and Gilbert could read my Angel Guide?"

Arthur immediately snapped back to attention.

"They can read it?" he asked, alarmed, his eyes growing wide.

Veneziano was panicking again. "Is it that bad?"

Arthur sighed. Such troublesome things he was hearing. And it wasn't even noon yet.

"Truthfully, I don't know but if it doesn't interfere with your work, I guess it isn't that bad. I don't know what this means but I've never heard of this kind of problem happening before. As I said before, if Heaven is the one who made this mistake, you're not the one responsible." The angel suddenly narrowed his eyes at Veneziano, who stiffened immediately. "_Did _you do anything?"

"N—No! Gilbert just grabbed my book and read it then gave it to Ludwig. I didn't do anything to it," Veneziano hastily defended, waving his arms around.

"Alright fine, fine. I get it. Is that all?" Arthur asked, leaning back against his chair. He caught a glimpse of the papers on his desk and groaned slightly, rubbing his eyes.

Veneziano nodded before tentatively asking, "Is there anything I can help with?"

"No. Not now at least."

"Oh…"

Veneziano sounded disappointed and Arthur felt slight helplessness poking at his consciousness but it disappeared when he immediately returned to his cheerful self.

"Well if you need anything, you can call me anytime you want ve. I'll see you soon!" And with that cheerful note, he bounced out of the room.

_Well there he goes, happy as ever_, Arthur thought a bit enviously as he picked up the papers he had neglected for the past few minutes, a bit envious of Veneziano's almost carefree lifestyle. While he did still have his missions as a guardian angel, Arthur didn't think he'd ever really had a real responsibility.

His eyes scanned the papers dully, prepared to enter any helpful information into the computer if need be but stopped when he read a certain part, frowning slightly.

Was it just him or was SM Company buying more shares of Muse than necessary? It wasn't obvious because the company bought as little as five shares and as much as three hundred shares in irregular intervals. If one added up all the stocks they bought, however, it's quite clear that SM is slowly eating up Muse. What in the world?

Come to think of it, for a partner company, there seemed to be an awful lousy amount of information regarding SM. Almost no reports on the company's progress, plans, financial data, or any data at all really. Well, none that ever reached his desk and since he was Alfred the manager's secretary, he would know if they did.

Well, if this wasn't suspicious, Arthur didn't know what was and considering SM was one of his prime suspects in this whole demon headquarters thing, he simply can't let this go.

If only he could get his hands on that information but how... He would need someone who could have access and wouldn't question why he needed the material…

Something clicked together in Arthur's mind.

Veneziano! Of course! As the office boy, he would be able to go to places normally forbidden to employees as long as they get written consent from a higher-up.

He hastily typed and printed a short note and quickly knocked on Alfred's door, hardly listening for his cue to enter.

"Alfred! Can you sign this?" he spouted the moment he burst into the private section of office.

Alfred raised his eyebrows in surprise at Arthur's sudden, uncharacteristic entrance.

"Um… sure but what is it?"

He looked down at the sheet to read what was on it but his secretary and assistant was waving his pen in his face.

"It doesn't matter! Just sign this for me! It's important that you do it quickly!" Arthur pushed urgently.

Still a little more than confused about his secretary's sudden erratic behavior, Alfred signed the paper without further questions and immediately afterwards, Arthur snatched it from his desk.

"Thanks!"

And with that, Arthur sped back out, leaving behind a befuddled Alfred in his wake. He rushed towards the direction Veneziano had left, the note crumpling slightly in his grip. He never once paused in his pursuit until he turned the corner, skidded to a stop, and froze when he saw the person walking towards him.

Riyu smiled amiably.

"Hello, Arthur," he greeted genially.

"Hello," the angel greeted back stiffly.

"Please be careful when you run around corners. You might collide with someone," the demon cautioned concernedly.

Arthur nodded slowly, eyeing Riyu warily as he continued to walk past.

"Oh and Arthur? Try not to think too much," Riyu uttered quietly. "Have a good day!"

And with that high-spirited farewell, Riyu vanished around the corner.

After doing a quick check to make sure he hadn't done any magic tricks, Arthur continued on his way, Riyu's "advice" carefully noted in the back of his mind.

It wasn't much longer until he spotted Veneziano with Kiku showing him something in a binder.

"Veneziano!"

The owner of the name jerked his head up from the pages within and smiled radiantly upon spotting his Overseer jogging towards him.

"Arthur!"

"I want you to hurry and go to the File Room and give the guy who works there this paper," Arthur explained rapidly, shoving the piece of paper into Veneziano's hand.

The Italian blinked in confusion upon the sheet of slightly rumpled instructions before lifting his eyes back to Arthur. Before he could open his mouth, the angel snapped, "Don't just stand there! This is critical!"

Veneziano jumped and immediately obeyed, heading for the elevator with all the speed of his blessed powers of fleeing danger.

Kiku was staring at him curiously but Arthur ignored him as he made his way back to the office to impatiently await his charge's return.

For the first few minutes, Arthur sat at his desk, tapping his pen. He growled in slight annoyance at the suspense and, after a while, decided to at least do something productive. He immersed himself in work to keep the buzz of anticipation at bay, tackling information after information and idiocy after idiocy. The distraction seemed to work for the most part but not entirely because the moment Veneziano waltzed back into his office, Arthur almost made a mad dash for the stack of papers in his arms.

With a tired huff, the guardian angel dropped the heap onto the desk with a loud thump and flopped down onto the chair, panting.

"Thank you Veneziano," Arthur said delightedly as he looked over the manila envelopes and papers.

Veneziano managed to give a weak smile. "The… man… said… huff… that he's not…. really supposed to… give out information about… SM but since… he owed Alfred a… huge… huff…. favor, he decided… to give up… the papers as long as… no one says anything."

Arthur frowned. "I see."

How odd. Was there something so incriminating printed upon these papers that everyone in the whole company had to be kept in the dark?

The angel nodded in satisfaction after inspecting the pile, confident he would be able to dig up whatever he wanted to know from the pile Veneziano had brought.

Adequately rested, the Italian stood back up and put up a beaming smile. "I need to go now. Ludwig's going to show how to organize files!"

That said, he cheerfully walked back out of the office, humming.

Not wasting a second, Arthur cut the stack in half and eagerly took a folder from the mini pile to his right.

This was it! The goldmine of clues! A breakthrough in the clouds! He was finally one step closer to figuring out those demons!

He had only just opened the folder when the door banged open a third time, causing him to jump in surprise.

Oh great. Just what he needed. This was the damn _third_ discrepancy this morning! Doesn't anyone know how to knock anymore or did all the manners in the world die with him?

"Ah Arthur! Just the man I wanted to see!" Francis exclaimed.

Arthur gritted his teeth and threw him a look that could melt diamond, accelerate global warming, and cause catastrophic cosmic explosions that can blow up time, space, and the universe in one big mighty BOOM.

Francis merely strides into the room.

"So, my favorite Anglais, as lovely as it is to see your face so early in the morning, I need to speak to you about something. Come with me!"

When he saw that Arthur had not budged, he added, "I'm not going to leave until you comply. I'll just sit right here in this seat until your shift is over." He patted the seat of the chair, smiling in a disgustingly bright way.

Arthur continued to shoot him a toxic look, meaning to convey just how unwanted Francis was without resorting to violence that might get him a scolding from Yao or scathing words that have long lost any effect on the damn twat.

When he finally realized that Francis was not, in fact, a diamond, planet Earth, time, space, or the universe, Arthur relented grudgingly and got up from his chair, cursing Francis with violent ferocity in his head. They made their way from the small workstation to the elevator, the Brit almost dragging himself to get into the mental contraption.

Once they arrived onto the designated floor, Francis led Arthur into a huge, spacious empty conference room with one huge window comfortably nestled into the right wall. The Frenchman plopped himself into one of the large, plushy seats neatly arranged around the large table like he was at home but his companion remained standing.

"Okay I came with you. Now what?" Arthur asked irately. He scowled at Francis, less than happy about having to spend time with his least favorite person in the world when he had _so_ much more important things to tend to.

Francis hummed a bit before saying, "Well now that's rather rude for a so-called gentleman. Don't I at least get a kiss hello?"

Arthur's stormy expression spoke volumes. Stupid frog is trying to drag this out just to spite him and he didn't even have half the patience he usually had for him, which was very, very little to begin with. "I'm sure my fist would be more than happy to give you a kiss. Just get to the point."

His bane of existence merely shrugged his shoulders. "I called you out to tell you that your performance and appearance in the workplace has dropped from bad to worse. It's starting to interfere with getting drinking buddies so I, being the kind-hearted person I am, have decided to help remedy your problems."

Arthur stared at Francis before breaking into a peal of laughter.

"Y-you? Willingly help me? That's rich. Very funny. Now tell me. What do you really want?"

Francis sighed as though he expected the reaction, leaning back further into his chair.

"Well obviously you wouldn't believe me if I said I was concerned but will you believe me if I said Matthew and even Alfred are too?" he asked, looking straight at Arthur.

The Brit's mirth immediately vanished and he stared at his childhood friend turned enemy turned acquaintances disbelievingly.

Satisfied that he has gotten the Brit's attention, Francis continued. "Listen, I would have let you continue on as you are because I don't like prying into your business but if even Alfred is concerned, then I won't ignore this." He shook his head. "It's fine if you don't want to talk to me about your problem but at least tell Alfred."

"Oh so Alfred put you up for this," Arthur said in a clipped tone. "Well, tell him not to worry because I'm fine and if he doesn't believe me, that's his problem."

He was fine. He really was. Except for a little extra stress and some sleepless nights, he was okay. Why doesn't anyone believe him?

Irritation started seeping into his heart.

Can't they all just leave him alone? He was tired of the same questions asked again and again.

Francis frowned. "Alfred didn't put me up to anything, Arthur. I have chosen to speak to you by my own free will. Your rather uncaring attitude about our concern is starting to make me feel angry."

"No, it's not that I don't care. In fact, I'm quite pleasantly flattered that Alfred is worried for me but I'm sick and tired of people constantly asking my welfare when I'm perfectly fine!"

"Arthur, it seems as though everyone knows how different you are except you. Your work is below par and you're caught staring into space more often than not yet you still try to deny it? I've already caught _ten _major errors with your work that could have severely impacted this company because you can't get over whatever it is that's in your mind. Are you just being stupid or do you think the rest of us are idiots?"

At this point, Arthur can't keep his pent up frustrations inside much longer. Each passing word was like a giant ax cutting through the rope of his self-restraint until finally, the last barrier was cut and his rage roared loose, surging forth viciously.

"I've never thought anyone as idiots but at the rate they are going, I'm starting to wonder if they're a bit mental! I know everyone could tell there's something going on but my personal matters are my own and I don't appreciate people trying to 'help me,' especially you! You've never given two damn about me before so why the bloody hell are you trying now? If I had wanted help, do you think me so incompetent that I don't know when to get it?"

Francis allowed him to finish his miniature tirade before simply saying, "I know."

Arthur stared.

What?

"You're a prideful man, Arthur but you're also a rational man. I know that if you realize you can't handle something, you would definitely ask for someone's help and if you don't, it's not without a good reason. But you're not always very honest and you can be very stubborn. You say you're fine when you're obviously not and the situation you say is personal is starting to eat you but you won't look for any help. I didn't bring you here to force you to tell me what is wrong if I fail to persuade you but I want that reason why you won't even speak about it."

"You want the reason?" Arthur asked slowly, anger dissipating.

Well, as much as he hated it, he had to hand it to Francis for knowing when to quit. But then again, if anyone else had known him since he was a child, he was sure they would know when to quit too. He'll admit it himself, his temper isn't exactly something to be admired.

"Heh. Very well then but once I tell you, you and the rest of the gits have to leave me alone."

Francis nodded and Arthur continued with a very short and very precise sentence. "Because it's something no one can help me with."

The other occupant in the room quirked a brow. "I don't think it'd kill you to give me more details," he stated dryly. "Why can't anyone help you with this?"

Arthur gave an exasperated exhale of air like he was explaining something simple for the hundredth time but then again he didn't really expect Francis to let him leave him hanging. That doesn't mean explaining this would be any easier.

"Let's just leave it at that," Arthur said, hoping Francis would do just that. "I have my reasons why I can't explain more than that, okay?"

Francis, however, merely shook his head. "No Arthur. If we're going to leave alone, we want a full explanation why we should in exchange. It's a fair deal no?"

_No, I think you're just being nosy now,_ Arthur thought, annoyed. Why did he have to rouse his curiosity?

"I'm not trying to be nosy," Francis said, as though he read his mind. "I'm just saying that even if that answer satisfies me, it definitely won't satisfy Alfred, Matthew, little Veneziano, Ludwig… Need I continue? If I just told them you won't let them help because they can't, they'll definitely get curious and would you rather deal with me or a _very_ persistent, _very_ annoying Alfred?"

Arthur shuddered at the implications of the question. Francis had a good point. Damn it. As much as he loathed the wine-loving sex maniac, he had to grudgingly admit, he _would_ rather deal with his arch-nemesis than Alfred, which is kind of sad because he almost practically raised him. However, it was because he raised Alfred that he knew just how extreme he can be in the persistent department.

He'll be damned if Francis doesn't come out of the room thinking he's a bloody loon after this.

"You remember what I said about being an angel sent from Heaven to look after Veneziano and search for a demon?" Arthur finally began after a moment's contemplation. He waited for the other blonde to nod before he continued. "Well, I wasn't kidding and now I have a major dilemma relating to this so there."

Oh why was he even bothering? Francis had never believed him before. Why would he start now? This was just plain stupid.

"Ah so let me guess. You can't find the demon," Francis concluded.

Damn it. Guess it was sort of a long shot to hope he wouldn't pick up on that.

"Yes," Arthur affirmed unwillingly, mentally cursing himself for giving too much information. He forgot how tricky Francis could be when he wanted to be.

"And you couldn't have just said that?"

The Brit looked at him as though he was crazy, which he was, but at least have some common sense!

"Francis, I'm claiming I'm an angel who's running around slaying demons," he said monotonously.

"So the reason you won't tell anyone was because no one would believe you and the reason why no one can help you is…"

"_Demons_. As in evil magic-using, people-killing, soul-stealing, Satan-loving demons."

"Yes, yes I get it now," Francis sighed.

"You don't believe me do you?" Arthur asked flatly. Not that it was bad if he didn't.

"Arthur, as I said, you aren't very honest sometimes but seeing as how reluctant you are to tell me, I guess your explanation is okay," the Frenchman said, shrugging.

Arthur gaped at him. Just like that? And he believes him? Well, this could be bad because as much as he may dislike Francis, having this knowledge may put him in danger.

"Are you sure? Demons! They don't exist!"

"Oh? This coming from the man who still claims faeries and unicorns exist?" Francis shot back amusedly.

"It's because I claim they exist that you shouldn't believe me! Because they don't exist!" Arthur exclaimed incredulously.

_Now I'm the one claiming faeries and the like aren't real. How ironic_, he thought wryly but if there's even the slightest chance to get Francis off his tail then this would be his last stand.

"I don't know why you're so suddenly adamant about protesting the existence of mythical creatures when you've believed in them all your life but I guess this would definitely confirm it does have something to do with demons."

"No, it doesn't because they don't exist," Arthur stubbornly denied, glaring at the man sitting in front of him.

For a while, Francis simply stared up at him and a long pause engulfed the room. Suddenly, he stood and walked over to him.

The Brit watched him suspiciously, tensing and preparing to act the moment he tried anything but Francis simply put a hand on top of his mop of dirty blonde hair.

Arthur blinked in confusion.

"If," Francis began, speaking softly, "what you claim is true, that demons and the like aren't real, then are you saying you've never died from that car accident?"

The question only made him even more confused.

"What?" he asked, deciding to voice his bafflement.

"If you've never died, then it's impossible to become an angel and that means you've been hiding from us all these years. Is that true, Arthur? Did you play dead?"

Arthur was speechless. He couldn't pinpoint where Francis was going with this but he had an inkling. Either way, he couldn't exactly say he had been hiding from his pseudo family. It wasn't right to say he disappeared for almost ten years as some sick April fool's joke. Besides, this would only lead to further complications and lies built on lies

"No," he finally muttered.

"Then, if you weren't hiding and you had really died, then how are you alive?" Francis asked, his focus no longer on his eyes but on his hair, gazing at the strands in fascination. "You're not a ghost or a spirit. You're not some sort of long lost twin. You're Arthur the angel and if you're an angel, it isn't too far-fetched to assume demons exist too, right? And if these two beings previously thought nonexistent were real, then it isn't a huge stretch of imagination to assume magic exists too, right?"

He suddenly looked at him again, smiling warmly. It reminded Arthur of the smile he used to give him when they played together as children. He could almost feel the sun, the grass tickling his face, and the smell of summer in the air. Has it really been that long since he last saw that smile?

A sense of nostalgia hit him and he almost felt like crying. In relief? In happiness? For those lost times? For finally having someone to confide in? He didn't know but he felt light enough to wrap his arms around Francis in a hug and bury his face into his shoulder.

"Thank you," he whispered, voice cracking slightly from the sudden torrent of an indescribable, weightless emotion.

He felt Francis shift and put an arm around him, pulling him into a familiar embrace although his other hand never left his hair, continuing to run through it soothingly.

"You're welcome."

Somehow, he didn't feel quite as alone as he did before.

* * *

**A/N**: Finally end of the chapter argh… I'm mostly happy about it but hmm... Oh but the two things I wanted to say.

1: I forgot to mention last chapter but for those who don't know, I've created a livejournal account so that I can update you guys on the progress of my story as well as future stories I might post, random stuff from my life if you want to read 'bout that, and unexpected events that might take my writing time away since it's kind of stupid to put an A/N as a "chapter" and give false hope to people.

2: I have several story ideas that I'm afraid I might not get to for a very, very long time. I want to either write them but don't think I can handle two stories or I want to write it but have no idea what the plot will be or where it'll go. It makes me kinda sad to see them sitting around because I really want them to have life so until I can write them, I've decided to put them up in my profile and my livejournal for people who want to take 'em up. I guess you could think of them as prompts. If you write a drabble for it, good. If you write a one shot, great. If you write a multi-chaptered fic, then cookies for you! You can write them any way you want for any fandom you want (except fandom specific ones but if you can switch characters then by all means) and of course, if you want a fair exchange, I'll write a one shot on your prompts too but if so, please tell me anything you want included otherwise I'll just have my way with it ;) Please note that if more people than I expect participate, I might have to put your order on hold for an indefinite amount of time. I've posted the prompts in my profile and if you're interested in any of the prompts, please drop a PM so I can read it and drop a review/critique when it's complete :)

Thank you and 'til next time!


	19. Guten Morgen

**A/N: **Thanks to **Statuess** for the correction on the previous chapter!

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_**Chapter 19:**_ Guten Morgen

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"Why are you always looking at the sunset?"

Ludwig turned from his place on the tree branch to meet the curious eyes of Gilbert clinging to the trunk just below him, blinking owlishly at him.

"Nothing. I just find it pretty," he answered, turning his sight back onto the goldenrod beauty of the pending dusk sky. The acres of forest below them were painted in the warm hues of the last light, a last gift of good-bye from the dying sun.

Gilbert climbed the rest of the way up to Ludwig's branch and plopped himself down beside his little brother. He turned towards the sun and wrinkled his nose as if in distaste.

"Sunrise is so much better. For one thing, it's the beginning of a new day. For another it's way more beautiful."

"Sunset is more peaceful," Ludwig argued.

"Sunrise is too."

The younger boy rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Gilbert grinned triumphantly at his win. "You're like an old man," he teased. "You're already all sentimental about sunsets."

"I am not sentimental," Ludwig protested, snapping his indignant gaze towards his older brother's amused red eyes.

"Oh? You could've fooled me. You're always going around spouting philosophical stuff about life and looking at sunsets every evening."

The blonde grumbled, turning a slight embarrassed red.

Sensing his discomfort, Gilbert waved his hands in a placating manner. "Hey don't get sore about it. I was just teasing you a little. It's actually kind of good you're thinking about these things. At least it's not death threats and curses."

His brows wrinkled slightly at the thought of the other occupants in the orphanage, frowning in displeasure at their unwelcomed intrusion into his mind.

Ludwig, embarrassment alleviated, turned back towards the scenery in front of him.

"I'm not surprised you like sunrises. You're always too happy for your own good even when the Queen and Headmaster decide to announce their latest torture."

The silver-haired teen simply laughed. "And I'm not surprised you like sunsets. You're always so broody and serious." He shook his head. "You need to lighten up a little West."

Ludwig raised a brow at the nickname. "West?"

"Of course. It's the direction the sun always sets and the place the sun is when it starts to go all dark and foreboding, like you."

"How thoughtful," Ludwig praised sarcastically. "If that's the case, then you're East. The direction the annoying sun rises to wake me up every morning when I very much want to be left alone."

Gilbert clutched his chest in fake horror. "Oh West! Your words cut me right here!"

He proceeded to make a dramatic display of falling off the tree.

Ludwig laughed at his antic, joining in the play by pretending to push his brother off the branch, to which he earned a few whines and complaints about no love in the world.

After a few more moments of laughter, the two settled back down, sitting side by side in companionable silence. They watched the sun finally fall below the horizon of green canopy, the dark velvet of night starting to crush the last few remnants of vibrant color.

It wasn't until the last wisps of feeble red were finally overtaken by the cool night that Gilbert spoke, tone heavy and grave.

"Ludwig, I'm going to escape."

The younger, caught off guard by the sudden solemn declaration, swiveled towards his brother, eyes wide in surprise and disbelief.

Gilbert's gaze was still locked on the point in the horizon where the sun finally gave in to its throes of death. His face was shadowed by the awakening night, grim and stone-like and his irises were hard-set, almost black in the darkness, deep with unfathomable and incomprehensible thoughts set in its abyss.

"Escape?" Ludwig whispered as though speaking the word any louder would cause god-like fury to rain upon him.

His brother nodded his head stiffly. "Yes, escape. I'm fed up and tired of this place, the people, the lies, and how they steal any chance at life."

Ludwig continued to stare at him through awed eyes as mixed feelings squirmed through him.

Wonder and admiration for his older brother's daring, fear for everything his announcement implied, and hurt that Gilbert was willing to leave him behind to the wolves.

"Can I go with you?" he hesitantly asked, hoping.

"I can't take you with me, Ludwig," Gilbert replied sternly. His lips pressed together tightly, sloping gently into a frown. "As long as the risk of getting caught is hanging over my head, I can't gamble your life too."

"But I want to go with you anyway!" Ludwig pleaded but Gilbert shook his head.

"I can't Ludwig. If you get caught along with me, who knows what'll happen. Our bodies would probably end up rotting with all the other 'bad' kids."

It was then Gilbert turned to him, unnatural red eyes aglow and strange silver hair shining with snowy luminosity from the pale, sickly moon struggling alone through the inky depths of the black sky. "Will you wait for me Ludwig? Are you willing to wait? I'll definitely come back here someday to get you. Definitely. Will you trust me?"

Ludwig turned away from him, disappointed and feeling slightly betrayed.

"Do I have a choice?" he muttered bitterly.

He felt a sudden weight drop onto his shoulders. Gilbert had put an arm around him in comfort but that wasn't going to change the fact he will leave without him.

"Ludwig, I know what you're feeling but I won't abandon you. We've been through too much together for me to give up on you now. I'm not like those assholes back there who'll backstab you any chance they get." His brother peered down at him through slightly sad eyes. "I thought you would know me enough to trust me."

Wincing minutely, Ludwig turned back towards Gilbert with large eyes, quick to try to remedy what he said.

"I do! I do trust you Gilbert but it'll be so hard in there all by myself. I can't imagine what it'll be like without you there to help me. I'm too weak to defend myself and I'm not as smart as you and… I'm…" He broke off before he could say the word he had forbidden himself to say. A cold shiver ran through him like a large piece of ice sliding down his throat, chilling every crevice in his body as he recalled all the past experiences Gilbert wasn't there by his side and all the close calls every single incident had incurred.

At this point, tears were beginning to form in his eyes but he quickly blinked them away, unwilling to show anymore weakness in front of his brother.

"I know that it's scary and it's okay to feel that way. Hell, I'd be a little worried if you weren't but I know you're a strong guy. I may have helped you out but you didn't crack under the pressure of living here and let me tell you, I have seen a lot of kids turn nuts. It's not exactly pleasant," he said, wincing at the memory, "but I know you'll never turn out like them. I trust that when I come back, you'll be alive and sane. I don't expect you to be unscathed but as long as you're alive and sane, it'll be enough."

Ludwig nodded, understanding and happy Gilbert thought so highly of him.

That's right.

His brother had lived by himself when he was his age. Why wouldn't he be able to? Did he depend on Gilbert that much? His brother had no one to defend him and if he could live to be thirteen then Ludwig can too without anyone's aid. He trusted Gilbert was doing this for both of their futures and all that's left is Ludwig's own ability to fend for himself. He can't drag his brother down with his complaining especially since he's out to change both of their outcomes to something other than an early death in a place like this.

He needed to be brave for the both of them.

"When are you leaving?"

"When the Headmaster goes off to get supplies. I can sneak into the back of his pick-up truck then. I'm going to save up some food and I've got some money I've filched when they weren't looking. If I can just slip into the back, it'll be cake from there. Once I get into town, even if he sees me, he can't do shit with all the other people around."

"Where are you going to go from there?"

The weight around his shoulders disappeared and a hand landed on his head in its place.

"I'm not going to lie. I'm not sure myself but I just know things will get better. Actually, it's impossible for things not to get better than this but if it doesn't, I'll make it get better."

Gilbert's voice was laced with conviction as immovable as the mountains themselves and Ludwig believed him with all his heart.

Really, there were only two parts in the plan. The first part was Gilbert's escape. The second part was Ludwig's survival.

Ludwig smirked, nudging the teen's ribs playfully.

"You better. I don't want to live in a dump because you're too useless to do anything. If you want my advice, you'd better do something about your annoying personality… East."

Gilbert laughed out loud and nudged him back. "When has the awesome Gilbert ever been useless? If you want _my_ advice, you'd better do something to lighten yourself up by the time I come back, eh West?"

-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-

As it turned out, Gilbert's opportunity came nearly two months later at dawn.

At last, the weeks of sleeping discretely outside finally paid off. Even those cold and rainy nights when he wished fervently to be inside where it was at least warm even if it's not welcoming were nothing now as he stealthily scaled the obstacle that enclosed the mansion.

He dropped onto the ground below with his burden and immediately crouched behind the bushes, aware of the Queen standing a distance away with her back to the hell he just escaped with the Headmaster. They were talking to each other about whatever. He didn't give a shit about the crap spewing from their mouths. His focus right now was on the disgusting barf green excuse of a truck sitting idly nearby on the wide dirt road with the horribly dented right door he could see clear as day.

Gilbert wasn't stupid.

During his days of planning his jailbreak, he knew many other kids must have had the same idea as he did and attempted to sneak off onto the truck just like he was doing now. He knew there must be something that would alert the Headmaster the moment he so much as touched the vehicle.

Gilbert squinted, trying to scrutinize the truck as much as he could from his distance.

If the Headmaster really did have some kind of alarm, it would most likely be on the back where kids would try to stow away. But knowing him…

His eyes strayed away from the vehicle towards the Queen who wore a lusty rich red cocktail dress.

She would probably be seeing the truck off, killing off any chances of anyone sneaking onboard.

Easy pie.

He shouldered his course sack, making sure the single twine that tied the opening closed was tight and that the baggage wouldn't get in his way. Tightening his grip, he expertly picked his way through the underbrush until he was just about across the truck's front wheels.

He patted his hand around the ground and plucked the small stones embedded or laying in the dirt. After gathering a handful of rocks, he started throwing them, making sure to aim at the same area.

One. Two. Three. Four…

There was a pause from the orphanage's favorite caretakers as they looked towards the direction of the sound, alert.

Five. Six…

Gilbert smirked as he untied his sack and pulled out a piece of broken fishing line. He tied it around a nearby, hefty stone before picking it up and slinking behind a tree. With all his might, he tossed the stone towards the branches in the distance, making sure a loud rustling noise sounded.

Those two were definitely giving their undivided attention now and they rushed towards the direction he threw the rock like the pair of moronic suckers they were.

Gilbert jogged the short distance separating him from the truck and examined the unusually large side mirrors.

The mirrors were directed towards the back of the truck and its reflections showed the distorted sheets of metal lining the inside. The metal lining itself acted like a mirror that reflected any objects that might be stowing away.

Gilbert then turned his attention towards the back where he spotted a large, bulky black video camera perched on the side like some kind of ugly hawk with a length of wire that slithered into the front through the back window. Following it led to a small, old, bulky television set sitting in the passenger seat, facing, of course, the driver's side.

Looks like a real serious problem. There's a video camera and mirrors that would instantly expose him if he tried to steal onboard. There's no way he could stay here undetected.

Maybe escape was too big of a dream after all…

He snorted.

Yeah fucking right.

If he knew the Headmaster as much as he liked to think, then that camera was just a piece of shit. As long as he pressed close to the front, the mirrors' blind side, then he'd be fine. The stupid camera was probably just a lame decoy that most kids probably tried to avoid only to be busted by the mirrors, the real anti-stowaway mechanisms. It figures that the greedy old asshole would be too damn cheap to install any actual high tech devices.

Noises from the brush instantly put him on alert and he swiftly slipped behind the truck just as the Headmaster, holding the rock, and Queen stepped onto the dirt road.

"Don't worry sweetheart I'll figure out what this is and I'll make sure to give them a little treat for being so bad," the Queen purred soothingly, her voice like velvet cake and silk as she pressed herself seductively against the Headmaster.

The man simply grunted and handed her the stupid rock before walking over to the truck and glancing into the back. Seeing it empty and his video camera, mirrors, and idiot box undisturbed, he started walking over to the driver's side.

Fully aware he was about to be discovered, he chucked the fistful of rocks he still held within his grasp into the forest. The few seconds of distraction allowed him to stealthily and silently jump into the back, heart thumping, hoping it was enough.

"Dear? Did you hear that?" inquired the Queen.

An answering grunt.

"It sounded like… someone landing on metal."

Gilbert's heart stopped, liquid ice immediately slithering in his veins and freezing his blood.

"You don't think there's anyone naughty enough to try to distract us while he gets onboard, do you?"

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit.

He could hear the footsteps towards him and he looked around in wild-eyed panic, his breathing so rapid it bordered hyperventilation.

There was no escape. Headmaster to his right and the Queen to his left. If he tried to dodge in any direction, he'd instantly get caught. It's impossible not to get caught with two pairs of eyes focused on the truck.

He was trapped.

He was going to be discovered.

He was going to get killed.

He was going to fail Ludwig. Ludwig, his little brother who depended on him to shed light into his future.

No, he had to try. He had to at least try to look for a way out. But how? How?

He rolled his eyes around in frantic frenzy, looking desperately for a way out in a situation with no ways out.

They're getting closer. The sound of their shoes' muffled clacking on the dirt.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Oh god what'll he do? Oh god. Oh god. What? What? How?

Darkness. Bright red blood. Pain. Throbbing, gut-wrenching, soul-grinding _pain_. No. No more! No more! Stop! No more!

_STOP!_

"Oh my."

Gilbert's wide eyes shot up to his left to meet the gaze of the Queen, her fancy red decorative fan covering the bottom half of her face. She seemed to be smiling at him, her quiet, refined brown eyes looking down on him imperially.

"What a naughty child."

Her voice was a gentle lilt that carried the tones of a disapproval and reprimand beneath it.

It was the voice she used when she was about to do something cruel to a child that she knew she would take pleasure in wholeheartedly. She would love that, wouldn't she? To drag a knife up his spinal cord or perhaps shatter every bone in his arms and legs before enjoying herself, indulging in her sick fetishes. She would love to gloat over his failed escape, her words sharper than the knife that would be in her hand and her criticism more devastating than a bomb.

She would have loved to tell him about how he had missed his shot at freedom forever, how everything was in vain and how he was so worthless, he couldn't even get in a truck and escape.

How pointless meeting Ludwig had been.

How pointless it was to be alive.

How pointless it was to _exist_.

A sneer sliced sharply across his face as a boiling, lava-hot rage oozed through his body, slowly filling him and thawing the Arctic ice that had paralyzed him mere seconds ago into a heat he could feel explode through his blood. Drops of venomous hate seeped along with his glowing fury, poisoning his mind with a contempt so intense he could think of nothing else but the raw, scorching emotions that erupted forth. It made him even angrier which in turn seeped more toxins of loathing inside him, creating a deadly cycle of positive feedback.

For all these years he had subjected himself to her wishes and her fucking lunatic psychotic mind. He had trembled before her like a fucking toddler and he remembered and knew the humiliation of bowing his head to the likes of _her_.

No more. He couldn't bear more humiliation from her.

Who the fuck was she to stand between his and Ludwig's freedom and enjoy every moment of pain she inflicted? It wasn't like _she_ knew how it hurts. It wasn't like _she_ knew how their wounds bleed. It wasn't like _she_ knew how her scars have dug downward deep into their flesh to the marrow of their bones because _she_… no not just her,_ him_ too. Because _they_ were never subjected to it.

_But I'll change that_, Gilbert thought viciously, snarling like a wolf at the approaching fingers of _her_. _I'll change that. I'll come back and I'll _kill_ you. I'll _torture_ you; put you through what you have put us through. I swear it. I fucking swear it. You'll see you fuckers. You'll see. You'll regret ever having started this sick, twisted game of yours in the first place. I _promise_._

Revenge.

Hot thick revenge.

He desired it, yearned for it, and craved it with every cell of his body. It drove him crazy, almost feral, the want, the _need_ for it like a stranded man in a desert who needed water. He wanted to feel the silky, spicy-sweet red taste of beautiful revenge dancing in his mouth, slipping over his tongue like satin ribbon.

The enrapturing promise of a meal of revenge glazed over with the building pressure of deep, bottomless hatred burst his body into movement. With a roar, he leapt up over the Headmaster, who had been standing passively to his right, and tore into the forest.

He knew the Queen will come after him. He also knew that to keep him from sneaking back on the truck, the Headmaster is probably starting up his truck right now.

What they don't know is that was exactly what he was hoping for.

He recalled from his memory a sketchy map of the road he had once tried to follow only to realize that he might be travelling for days without food, water or shelter before he reached the closest civilization if he were to go on foot.

There was a loop in the road.

The road started to the left of the mansion but in order to get down from the small cliff it rested on, it curved into a U to skirt around the rock before dropping south towards town.

If he could cut across the forest to the other side, he would have a chance at getting onto that truck.

It was risky, it was stupid, and it was rash but he didn't care. For his last bid for freedom, he would try anything at all. Anything.

He soared over the brush, gliding as fluidly as a sparrow between trees and branches. His resilient animosity and his ravenous pursuit of a future for both Ludwig and him propelled him forth like wind until he all but flew through the undergrowth.

He couldn't hear anyone following him beneath all the rustling and cracks of stone and twigs beneath his shoes but he knew the Queen was hot on his tail like a cat after its quarry.

He had to make it. There were no ifs, ands, buts, maybes, or afters. If he misses, it's all over for both them.

_But even if I'm gone, I'm sure Ludwig would try escaping anyway_, Gilbert thought with a mixture of pride and grimness.

His sprint through the forest was a rather long and windy one but he didn't slow. He couldn't slow. Not even if something smacked him unconscious. He would keep going and he would keep this speed if he wanted to catch that truck. When he arrives to the cliff… Well, he'll cross that bridge when he gets there, which will be very soon.

He will make it. He refused to believe otherwise. Too much was in balance. Only when the tart taste of failure filled his mouth would he allow himself to shatter, the hope he held, the fragile feathers making up his wings, would scatter to the wind and all resolve he held would crush him with its weight. But right now, his hope bore him forward.

Onwards Gilbert ran, his tiredness making itself known a hundred times over with the aching of his legs that felt as though someone was tearing them off and the suffocation he felt from breathing air that felt too heavy.

A break in the trees ahead along with the blue swath of sky just beyond an arch of branches signaled the cliff ahead.

He slowed and skidded to a stop at the very edge of the rock face, a few loose pebbles tumbling down the twenty foot drop to the road.

He could see the truck coming down the road already.

Without a second thought, he slid down the rock face carefully, dirt and stones following his descent. He snagged a sturdy rock and stopped, halfway down.

The Queen coming from above and his escape below, it was a no brainer if he'd rather miss or hit.

His heart pumping liters of the drug adrenaline, he would only have a few seco—

THUMP!

Sssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

"AH!"

Gilbert scrambled to heave himself up on his feet or _something. Anything_ just as long as the rough ground stopped scrapping the flesh off his legs!

Bump.

He strained to keep his grip on the back edge of the truck and swallowed the sharp yelp as the sudden jagged movement jostled his wounds.

Gritting his teeth, he forced his legs to lift themselves onto his feet despite the fact he had left a bloody mess of his tissue and pieces of skin behind him.

His shoes helped protect him for a few moments but the ratty things were nothing. They would soon disintegrate in the face of the less than smooth road he was currently skiing on. His arms were beyond tired and if he didn't do something, he'll find himself stranded in the middle of wilderness with nothing but two gushing, damaged legs.

With a great, laborious effort, he heaved himself upward and forced his legs to move, the screeching sheer agony of simply bending his knees slightly made him gasp but he bit his lip and let out a muffled scream instead. He placed his feet on the rear bumper of the truck and agonizingly climbed onto the back, settling back against the mirrors' blind spot just in case.

He panted for breath.

He made it.

Taking a quick glance down at his bloodied appendages, he knew it would take much more than spit and tape to heal that kind of injury this time but it was okay. He's been through much worse before.

Still, it hurt like a bitch now that his adrenaline was draining, leaving him exhausted and throbbing painfully all over his body.

He was much too tired to fully savor his victory and much too wounded to really care he had managed to board his ticket to freedom.

Nonetheless, however, the taste on his tongue was a sweetness he had never tasted before and which he will taste two more times in his future lifetime.

It was the overwhelming flavor of complete and utter victory.

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**A/N: **Sigh I'm sorry about the very late update everyone. I didn't actually mean for it to be late by about two months since August was summer vacation with more time to write and all but I've been kind of sick at heart lately and I was in no mood or condition to write but I have an obligation to readers and an unspoken responsbility the moment I posted the prolouge.

Again, my condolences for my prolonged absence. I try with utmost effort to post a chapter at least once a month.

One more note. If you haven't read in my livejournal (which you should check at least demi-frequently because it might have important updates), Guardian Angel will be making a brief hiatus and when I say hiatus, I don't mean it as a codeword for discontinued. I'm simply working on another story called With the Sky So Tall. If you would like more information, feel free to visit.

Thank you and see you again soon.

**Edit:** I would like to ask people to please refrain from asking for updates or asking for me to update soon. I'm sincerely flattered you like this story enough to ask for updates but please keep in mind that if you've ever written multi-chaptered stories, you'll know being an author isn't as easy as it may look. There a thousand things that gets in the way. There's school, real life activities, and dramas that can occur. Right now, I'm struggling with an emotional instability bordering flat out depression and I'm not even sure when I can finish up WtSST but I will finish up the next chapter of this story when I finish it. It may be a long wait but I did promise that I'd finish this story many times throughout so again, I would like to kindly ask people not to ask for updates. Thank you for your cooperation :)


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